An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everybody Blind
by SASundance
Summary: Can there ever be a justification for choosing revenge over justice, especially when you work for a federal law enforcement agency? This is an AU Aliyah story and NB that this is not a TIVA story. Warning, contains a major character death - for more info on the identity please see author's note in chapter 1.
1. Chapter 1

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own the NCIS characters and I don't profit financially from this story.

Beta: This story has benefited greatly by the awesome beta-skills and input of Arress and I want to extend a humungous thanks to her for all her assistance. And you all know the drill... any boo-boos are my bad :)

Warnings: This is a tag of sorts to Aliyah and since I am NOT a TIVA and not a fan of the Ziva character either (and Aliyah would be a big part of that reason) if you are a fan then this is probably not a story that you will enjoy. The second major warning I need to issue is that the death of a major character that takes place but the identity will not be revealed until chapter 4 of the story; which leaves me with something of a conundrum. How do I balance the need for people who won't read this work unless they know who dies versus my desire to maintain the mystery and heighten the suspense? Which, as much as people complain about cliff-hangers, serves a very important purpose in fiction for both the reader and author of building tension and maintaining interest! Anyhow... I have come to a compromise of sorts. If you are one of those individuals who simply won't read a story with a major character death in it unless you know who it is, then feel free to PM me prior to reading and I will give you a spoiler re identity. That way, I don't spoil the suspense for everyone else who enjoys a little mystery.

A/N I've ended up with another 'What If' scenario this time taking place following Aliyah. I know that there have been a heap of stories surrounding this episode already, some TIVA based and many also authored by people like me, appalled at the plot holes and the assault that takes place and seems to be excused by some on the basis of grief. And perhaps even more distressing, the lack of consequence for that act. I admit I find it incomprehensible the willingness by some people to applaud it or justify it as being deserved in some way.

This story is AU and its main theme is retribution. While the setting is post Aliyah, the genesis for the story is also my frustration that throughout the entire ten seasons but perhaps none more so than the disappointing Season 10, there has been the ad nauseam use of revenge based story lines. Apart from the fact that it must be extremely insulting to the integrity and professionalism of the real life law enforcement personnel and agency to be portray as constantly giving in to base personal desires to extract revenge and not have any consequences for their vigilantism, it is pretty unimaginative writing. Add it up: Gibbs and Ari, Gibbs and Pedro Hernandez, Gibbs using his position to cover up the death of Cpt Joseph Norton by his mother-in-law Joanne Fielding, Gibbs and Harper Dearing, Mike Franks and Arkady Kobach, Jenny Shepard and La Grenouille, Ziva David and Tony re Rivkin's death , Ziva David & Leon Vance and Ilan Bodnar. So apart from the moral ambiguity of having so many law breakers and murders working in the agency, it is a plot that has been done to death if you'll pardon the pun. And I'm not even going to point out that the theme was used in writing another two major story arcs involving mass murder/serial killers with revenge as the perps motivation.

So although set post Aliyah, this story also begs the questions: What is the hidden cost of pursuing vengeance? What happens to the innocent victims of revenge, and how can the people that selfishly demand retribution justify the collateral damage that inevitably occurs when the thirst for revenge and blood lust wins out over the quest for justice for the victims and the community? Which after all, is why civilized societies have law enforcement and justice systems. Alright already... time to climb off my soap box and get on with the story.

One final caveat, this is a dark, angsty story so if you want light and fluffy, press the back button now. Having said that, I hope you'll take the journey with me. I look forward to your feedback and just so you know I have taken some creative licence with Jimmy's back-story.

An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everybody Blind

Chapter 1

I arrived at my friend's apartment, not sure what I would find when I got there, but the message I received from my boss alerted me that whatever I was stepping into, it was something pretty horrific. Yet nothing prepared me for what I did find! Is it not enough that my friend had to deal with more tragedy, trauma, bad luck and betrayal? Yet as I sped towards his place, it seemed that destiny had more suffering in store for him and I wondered how much more he would be forced to endure, how much more he could endure. Seeing an ambulance and a van that I immediately recognised as being used to transport dead bodies, when I pulled up, I was utterly shocked. I knew right then that something unspeakable had happened, even without the clue of the anguish in my mentor's voice as he summoned me here ASAP in a terse phone call.

Steeling myself for what I knew that I didn't want to see, I took a deep breath as I stepped across the threshold. Following the throng of individuals, some familiar, some strangers, I made my way to where my mentor was waiting for me and I stared in disbelief at the dead body on the floor. I stared at my boss, hoping that he would tell me that this was just some elaborate joke, even though I knew it wasn't. I'm no stranger to death, and as much as I wish it otherwise, all that was left was a shell, the soul long gone. My mentor… my father figure, filled me in quickly and with a minimum detail, unusual in such an ebullient individual and I realise dazedly that this was actually happening.

Although we will never know exactly what would cause someone that we knew so well to do such a thing, we both suspected, no we just knew, that revenge was a primary motivation. Thinking about that disturbing fact, I found myself inevitably thinking about the effect that revenge has had on my life, and I can't help but wonder how this vengeful act may impact on my future, all of our futures. A future that I thought was all laid out for me. Of one thing though, I am certain – this is going to shatter our close-knit little ensemble, if not completely destroy it! I wish that I could say that I'm a stranger to retributions, but that would be a lie.

My name is Jimmy Palmer and I am the Autopsy Assistant for Dr. Donald Mallard, Medical Examiner at the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, or NCIS for short. The NCIS mission is to investigate and defeat criminal, terrorist, and foreign intelligence threats to the United States Navy and Marine Corps—ashore, afloat, and in cyberspace. I have been working here in this job for the last five years, which is something that never ceases to amaze me, because when Dr. Mallard hired me, it was only meant to be a temporary job. I was supposed to be filling in for the ME's previous assistant, who had been shot in the shoulder by a terrorist and was out on sick leave. Gerald never did return to work, though, a combination of physical issues and psychological ones too I suspect, although Ducky would never say, remaining the model of circumspect medical discretion.

My boss, Dr. Mallard, is a man of rare honour, courage and integrity and that is very important part of why I chose to remain at NCIS while I worked my way through medical school to become a doctor. Seeing first-hand the voice that he has given his patients in death, his desire let them speak and gain justice for their demise, many which are violent and untimely, changed my life. He inspired me to specialise in forensic pathology when I qualify as a doctor rather than general medicine, which had been my intention before I started working for him. The other major factor that inspired my loyalty to NCIS was Leroy Jethro Gibbs and his team of talented investigators, who I always considered to be brave, honourable and highly principled individuals. They fought alongside Dr. Mallard for justice for victims and survivors and stood up against the scourges of corruption, evil, greed and vengeance.

If I am honest, I would have to say that of all the qualities that I most admire in my mentor, Dr. Mallard, and in the case of Tony and Abby, my two close friends; it would have to be their incorruptibility and refusal to allow themselves to be overwhelmed by the seductive allure of retribution. I knew all too well that it can have a magnetism that is difficult to ignore, especially for anyone who works in law enforcement and sees the worst of human nature day after day. It is far too easy for the morally weak to give in to the need to avenge, especially after seeing so much pain and suffering as we do, day in and day out. Yet the moment that the burning need to seek revenge overtakes the striving for justice, the forces of darkness have won and the individuals who succumb to it have lost the war.

My childhood… my life so far, has been shaped by revenge and the consequences it exacts. I understood all too well the sheer futility of pursuing this foetid desire and the absolute necessity for anyone who calls themselves evolved and civilised individuals, to rise above the need for petty retribution. Unfortunately, I also know what happens when we cannot control our base need to avenge wrongs committed against us. At NCIS I have always taken comfort, feeling as if we were making a real difference, redressing the balance and defending justice.

I learnt about Martin Luther King Jr. at school in civics class, obviously like any other American student, but I was already well acquainted with the good Dr. King from a much earlier age. My mom was a huge fan of the Reverend and everything that he stood for. Her favourite quote, amongst many that she would haul out and cite verbatim whenever there was an appropriate situation was_ "We must build dikes of courage to hold back the flood of fear... That old law about "an eye for an eye" leaves everybody blind... The time is always right to do the right thing... Peace is not merely a distant goal that we seek, but a means by which we arrive at that goal."_

As with all of his quotes and speeches, she would always find teaching moments to educate me, and often my friends, since revenge was something that Mom felt very strongly about. She felt it was at the root of much of the ills that we face the hurt, pain, death and wars. My mom felt passionately that revenge inevitably ended in fresh pain and anger and perpetuated a never-ending cycle of violence. She reckoned that it never fed the soul either, if anything it suffocated it; never subscribing to the maxim that revenge is a dish better served cold.

The first time I could remember experiencing this lesson first-hand, was my first day of school when Joanie Jenkins pushed Suzy Taylor off the monkey bars and made her cry. Suzy had two older siblings and she knew how to rough house, so when she finally stopped her crying, she stood up and went and thumped Joanie and she fell, too, except that she landed funny and broke her wrist and had to go to hospital and have it set. Unfortunately, it didn't stop there, because Joanie's big brother Jason swore that he would teach Suzy a lesson because nobody messed with his little sister.

And then Suzy's big sister, who went to junior high, had to avenge her little sister and bash up Jason to teach him a lesson, too, and soon Joanie's dad and mom were also slugging it out in the playground verbally and physically in a weekly brawl session with Suzy's parents, and it developed into a feud that remained bitter and unresolved for the next twelve years of our school careers. My mom said that if everyone had tried to forgive, forget and move on, then the families would never have ended up having two dads being arrested by the cops and charged with assault. When the judge found them guilty, Mom said that the idiots would have a criminal record for life.

Over the years at school, I continued to learn that revenge never ended up fixing anything or making it better, it only ever made everything worse. By the time we were in junior high and girls and boys started dating and going steady, revenge became second nature almost, as girls stole each other's boyfriends and boys stole each other's girlfriends and bitter feuds were sparked. Somehow the angst seemed to be intensified as we battled raging hormones and greater autonomy as mini adults.

One girl in my class who was in the popular crowd, her name was Daphne Richards, and she was a cheerleader; she ended up caught up in a bitter feud with her best friend Sarah Mitchell after they both had a crush on the same boy. He was a basketball player called Jake Waters and he started seeing both of them on the sly. When they both found out, it sparked an argument that was such a bitter feud it ended in a cat fight in the cafeteria and ended a longstanding friendship. After months of tit for tat incidents inspired by wanting to get revenge on each other, Sarah ended up depressed and tried to kill herself by taking an overdose of her mother's tranquilisers.

While I was always something of an awkward kid who didn't have to worry over much about girlfriends, because of my mom's lessons, I realised how easy it was to fall into a never ending spiral, trapped by the desire to avenge real or perceived wrongs. What I soon realised though, was even if revenge was achieved, it created a new bunch of victims that could simply perpetuate the cycle, and so where did it stop? Only when someone with the courage to stand up and say enough and forgive their aggressors was the vicious cycle finally broken and everyone could start to heal and live again.

In my final year at high school the insidious cost of the desire to achieve revenge was tragically brought home upon my family when my mom's brother was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was an innocent victim who was sitting minding his own business at a sidewalk café, enjoying a cappuccino and an olive and feta cheese bruschetta. Uncle Liam got caught in the crossfire of a vendetta involving two rival biker gangs who had been engaged in a series of retribution shootings for years. Unfortunately, the bikers weren't particularly concerned about the escalation of innocent casualties who were deemed collateral damage, but to every family of every innocent individual who died while the bikers engaged in a futile but deadly dance of vengeance; it meant their world was shattered. My cousins and my aunt will never get over Uncle Liam's death and Mom was heartbroken to lose her only sibling, while I lost my only father figure, all for a base desire to avenge a never-ending vendetta.

It was a year or two later that I furthered my education into the utter pointlessness of revenge, vengeance or retribution; whatever you want to call it, it still destroys people's lives. It also doesn't change the fact that it is futile, destructive and was essentially a black hole of negativity that sucks everyone and everything into its vortex, and there are seldom any survivors. I was at college, pre-med and since my mom was a single parent, I had to work my way through college and medical school. Mind you, I'm not whining about it… I'm just telling you how it was.

When I was a kid, my mom and I used to volunteer at an animal shelter since she couldn't afford to get me a dog or a cat. Being a Type 1 diabetic, it was a pretty huge financial burden on our limited resources what with the doctors' visits, daily insulin and the occasional hospital visit, and we needed to live rather frugally. So anyway, all the hours that I'd spent, walking the dogs and playing with the cats and kittens and cleaning out cages also taught me valuable lesson about responsibility, nurturing, unconditional love and a score of qualities that have helped make me who I am.

All that aside, though, it gave me plenty of practical experience which translated into transferable skills and secured me a job working as a veterinary assistant. It was a job that ultimately changed my life in many ways and set me on the path to starting my career at NCIS. It wasn't a glamorous job; it was more of a dogsbody position working at the local veterinary clinic part-time. I basically helped the vet techs and cleaned out cages or exercised dogs that needed potty breaks that were hospitalised for surgery or been injured or ill.

The veterinarian, Dr. Carey Sutton, even let me help out on some simple procedures and observe some routine spayings and castrations, since he knew that my intention was to apply for medical school when I graduated from college. I remember the thrill I felt when Dr. Sutton taught me how to suture, and even let me make several sutures as we worked on a Maltese Terrier called Fi-Fi-Belle, which had been savaged by a bull-mastiff. The feeling that I was helping the terrified little dog to recover was overwhelming and exhilarating, and right then and there, I determined that no matter what it took, I WOULD become a doctor and save lives.

And as much as I loved that job, not to mention Dr. Sutton and my co-workers, and especially the patients and the clients, it was also the scene of one of my most painful and shocking life lessons which, combined with the loss of my uncle, shaped my destiny and cemented my abhorrence of anything even hinting at revenge. As with many life changing moments, it wasn't some warm and fuzzy experience that shaped me so fundamentally, it was something so awful, so disturbing that even to this day, I have trouble talking about the act that was inspired by a desire for revenge.

It was one of those bitter lessons which illustrated bleakly how the line between love and hate was such a fine one and how easily it blurred, enabling someone to step over into the abyss. How someone could hate so much that they could intentionally decide to hurt their spouse, a person they have sworn to have and to hold, in sickness and health until parted by death. In retrospect, I was still a naive kid the day that Boyd Stevens came into the veterinary clinic with his cat, a beautiful pampered silver Persian named Prentiss, but by the end of the whole dreadful saga, I had become a man, albeit a cynical and tortured one.

Boyd brought Prentiss in to be euthanized. It was his first time at the clinic and he explained that Prentiss was his and his wife's cherished surrogate child who had been diagnosed with bladder cancer before they moved to D.C. last month. His wife, Janet, was beside herself with grief and although their vet wanted to euthanize the cat when he diagnosed him, Janet wasn't ready to say goodbye yet. Over the last week they had seen a steady decline and the cat started having trouble eating and seemed to be in pain, so they had decided it was time to let him go peacefully.

I can still remember the way that Boyd stroked the beautiful silken fur of the obviously much loved cat, and I wondered why it always seemed to be the pets that were loved and cared for that developed the incurable diseases. I helped Dr. Sutton with the euthanasia process, gently restraining the sweet feline as the vet shaved the hair on his hind leg to access his vein and start an IV line to administer the overdose of anaesthetic that would ensure that the six-year-old Persian slipped into a gentle and calm sleep. Finally, the vet delivered the second dose of the drug which stopped his heart, and Prentiss died quietly in my arms.

I really hated euthanasia, as did the rest of the staff, but when an animal was suffering and there was no hope of saving them, euthanasia was the ultimate act of love, even if it was probably the most difficult decision a pet owner would ever face. Boyd was a case in point and he shed tears before gathering up Prentiss' body and explained he would take him home and they would bury him together. Dr. Sutton agreed that memorialising his passing was a crucial part of the grieving process, and he suggested that taking a paw print and a lock of hair may afford Janet some comfort as she started to process her grief in the coming days. He handed Boyd some printed brochures on pet loss grief and how to deal with bereavement. He patted him on the shoulder and told him how sorry he was for his loss and walked him to his car.

I remember thinking how lucky Boyd's wife was to have such a compassionate and caring spouse, and I so admired the professional but kind and gentle manner with which Dr. Sutton handled what was a difficult situation for everyone. He was a gentle man who was in his early sixties and he loved his job and he loved his patients. It hurt him when he wasn't able to help fix them, but he told me that euthanasia was also one of the most important and difficult procedures he could perform for his patients and clients.

Euthanasia he explained to me, comes from the Greek and means 'good death', and the veterinarian knew that if he failed to achieve that good death, if the animal struggled or was distressed, panicked or experienced pain, not only had he failed in his duty of care, but he could traumatise the clients severely and it would retard their ability to grieve their loss. It was an awesome responsibility and I could see that while he was sad that Prentiss had cancer and he couldn't cure him, he had ensured he experienced a very peaceful passing and he took pride and solace in that.

It wasn't until a week or two later that Dr. Sutton received a letter from an attorney representing Janet Stevens, informing him that they were suing him for the unlawful death of Janet's prized Persian Prentiss Stevens. It turned out that Janet was having an affair with Boyd's best friend and he had found out about it. When she went away with her lover for a week in the Caribbean, telling Boyd she was at a work seminar, he decided to get revenge by killing her beloved cat. Since she was unable to have her own children, Prentiss had become her child substitute, and when she arrived home she found the beloved cat's dead body waiting for her in their bed where she had cheated on her husband; his body well into the process of decomposition. No doubt her vengeful husband wanted to make sure that her final memory of Prentiss would be a gruesome and traumatic one.

It was then that I finally, painfully became an adult as I realised that it was possible for someone who loved their wife so much that when she betrayed him by cheating, for that love to transform itself into such blind hatred that his desire to hurt her back could become all encompassing. So ugly was his need for revenge that he could take out his anger and hatred for what his wife had done to him upon an innocent animal, one that he obviously loved, unless he was an extraordinary actor, all to gain revenge on his wife. And if all that wasn't bad enough, his need for revenge had caused him to come up with a complicated and complex web of lies that had made Dr. Sutton and me complicit in his repulsive desire to achieve vengeance. He never even stopped to consider the damage he was imposing upon innocent lives.

And the damage that he wrought upon Carey Sutton was immense. The veterinarian, who had devoted his whole life to relieving pain and suffering in animals and those that loved them, was devastated to think that he had been duped into being the agent of Boyd Stevens' ugly reprisal. The fact that he euthanized a perfectly healthy, much loved cat that could well have lived for another ten years or more and that by putting Prentiss to sleep, he had caused untold pain and suffering to his owner was too much for him to deal with. Dr. Sutton became clinically depressed and decided to sell his practice, since he felt that he couldn't trust his clients any longer. He was also overwhelmed with guilt for the trauma that I as his assistant, had been subject to since as his employer, it was his responsibility to protect me. It was a responsibility that he was no longer prepared to shoulder.

It was then, when I watched him walk away from a job that had been his life, a vocation really, that I learnt the painful lesson that even if you live a blameless life and strive to do the right thing, it wasn't enough to ensure that you weren't shielded from evil. And make no mistake; revenge is evil, insidious and an unfathomable pit of malevolence. I finally realised why veterinarians, along with dentists, had one of the highest rates of suicide of all the professions. I feared that the depression Boyd had selfishly unleashed on my mentor would drive him to kill himself so he could find peace from the unending guilt and pain that were unrelenting. As a veterinarian he had the knowledge of drugs and mindset to carry out a suicide if he decided to do the deed, and I knew that there wouldn't be any last minute regrets or second chances.

So while Carey Sutton became impotent in a depressive state, I became filled with rage, where the smallest slight or look from a passer-by filled me with murderous rage, and I was finally forced to seek help from a psychologist. She very quickly ascertained that I still had unresolved grief issues relating to the death of my Uncle Liam that would need to be processed as well. It was an exceptionally dark time, and for a period of time my diabetes, always assiduously maintained thanks to the wonderful training from my mother, spiralled out of control as I skipped meals, ate a diet full of carbs and wasn't careful enough in measuring my blood sugar levels. I even managed to land in a hospital in a diabetic coma for several days, which was a wake-up call of sorts.

I eventually managed to get my act together in better managing my diabetes, but even after starting medical school finally, I was in a bad place and felt like I was rudderless and that my life had no meaning. It was around this time that someone told me there was a temporary job up for grabs at NCIS as an autopsy assistant. One of my professors was waxing lyrical about how a giant in the world of forensic medicine needed an assistant and what an unbelievable opportunity it would be for a young medical student. I admit that my motivation at that point was based on pure pragmatism; I needed money and I hoped that I would pick up valuable skills that would help me in my anatomy and physiology classes. The thought that Dr. Donald Mallard, being a giant in the medical fraternity, might have useful contacts that I could utilise was another factor, too, I'll admit.

Yet I rapidly found myself falling under the spell of the cultured and gentle man that I found to be my boss, and he proved to be an amazing teacher. Not just in all things medical, but as a true mentor, as he showed me through deed and thoughts, the true measure of a man. When Gerald decided not to return to the job and Dr. Mallard asked me to stay on permanently, I knew that I had finally found a raison d'être to move on with my life. Not to forget the past and the lessons that I had learnt about hate and revenge, but to take the pain and grief and use it to help make the world a better place. And yeah, if that makes me sound like the world's biggest dork, well, so be it

My job isn't the easiest way to put myself through college; the pay is crappy and the hours can be long and sometime tedious. Sometimes it can be dangerous, as Gerald could no doubt attest, or the time that I was nearly shot while at a crime scene. My medical school buddies thought I was nuts for working in a job where my predecessor had been taken hostage, shot and almost killed, but after having an uncle gunned down while minding his own business at a café, I was more pragmatic about the potential risks, I guess. Death and violence can stalk you wherever you were or whatever you were doing.

Working so closely with the MCRT and Gibbs, Tony, Cate, Abby and Dr. Mallard, was a privilege that was helping me get my mojo back again, as Tony would say. It even earned me a nickname from him, and initially I resented the tag 'Autopsy Gremlin' when Tony first coined it, but in time came to embrace it, thanks to Gerald, who put me right when he called in one day to say hi to everyone. He told me that Tony only gave nicknames to the team and that he'd never gifted him with a nickname in the two plus years they'd worked together. After that I took it as a sign of affection and acceptance, and totally revelled in it. It was a great feeling to have found a home, a second family of sorts.

And what a family, too! So damned smart, courageous and incorruptible, and although the team changed somewhat over the years when first Tim joined Gibbs' team and Cate was killed by the same bastard that shot Gerald and seemed to have sworn some sort of blood feud with Gibbs; which made me question my beliefs in Gibbs somewhat. Then Ziva joined the team, but it still retained its core strengths of giving a voice and justice to victims, and upheld the principles of the rule of law that ensured that it was justice not revenge that they sought for their stakeholders.

Oh, sure there were times when individuals behaved badly, cruelly even, or made mistakes that hurt people and team members were injured over the years. Yet in all these years, I knew with a certainty that whenever push came to shove, this group of people who held themselves to a higher standard of integrity, honour, veracity and courage, would be the bulwark in the fight against anarchy, cruelty and blind vengeance. That they would fight to the death to uphold the principles that they held so dear.

That unswerving belief is what I would have sworn on a stack of bibles, too, if you had asked me up until that moment. Now after standing there in Tony's apartment, staring at the carnage, at the bloodied corpse that had been left behind in the pursuit of retribution, not to mention the shattered remains of the wounded survivor, I was shocked to my core. My beliefs have also become victim to the senseless violence as well.

I find myself questioning if I still want to remain a part of this group of people who I believed held themselves to a higher standard than your average individual than to surrender to their base emotions. Now I have say, I'm not sure about anything anymore. And even if it will kill me to leave, I don't think I can stay any longer.


	2. Chapter 2

Beta: This story has benefited greatly by the awesome beta-skills and input of Arress and I want to extend a humungous thanks to her for all her assistance. And you all know the drill... any boo-boos are my bad :)

A/N Thanks to everyone who reviewed alerted or favourited this story. I appreciate your support and hope you'll enjoy this chapter although I must warn you it is quite lengthy. Just to clarify, in this story Jimmy takes on the role of narrator and is written in 1st person while everyone else is written in 3rd person pov.

An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everybody Blind

Jimmy Palmer:

They say that hindsight is 20/20 you know, and looking back now I can see plenty that should have made us sit up and take notice, or at the very least expect the unexpected, although I doubt that my brain could ever in a million years conjure up a scenario such as this one. Obviously if I had, I would have done something, said something, maybe dragged Tony home to spend the night at my place, well, before things had gone to Hell in a hand basket. Yet he was really hurting when we patched him up since he refused to go to the hospital. He was in pain, deep unrelenting pain, his anguish both physical and emotion. Plus he was deeply embarrassed to have let his stoic mask slip so badly, so all he wanted to do was hole up in his personal bunker in splendid isolation and try to repair his mask. If only I had insisted that he needed to be watched by someone and dragged him home with me. If only…

If only Dr. Mallard or I had put things together, but to be honest, we were too shocked at the revelations that we'd literally dragged out of Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo under the influence of narcotics. What we learnt stunned us so much I guess we didn't make the connections, didn't put the pieces together and failed to anticipate that it could come down to this. Which is something both of us will be forced to live with for the rest of our lives, just not sure how you do that? It wasn't our fault, we aren't to blame…I know that rationally, but still the guilt remains because emotions aren't rational, they're… well, they're emotional. And therein lies the naked truth about revenge, that it makes the innocent feel complicit, often through no fault of their own for not preventing the carnage unleashed as they watch on, helpless to stop it once it begins. But there's that little voice that persists, it whispers seductively, "I should have known, I should have stopped it." Oh, yeah, there are many victims when someone selfishly demands revenge.

And in my guilt, I acknowledge what none of us have been prepared to before today and ask the unanswerable question – if we'd addressed it, could we have prevented this travesty? Even as I ask this question of myself, I know that there is no way to know the answer and that it will remain an exquisite form of self-torture as I'm left to wonder why none of us ever tried to address the honkin' big elephant in the room, despite it leaving a mammoth sized pile of manure that even a blind man would have noticed. If anyone had gotten their heads out of La-la Land just once, could one of us have stopped this from happening? While things hadn't been good on the team for a long time, we've all pretended otherwise, all keen to maintain the façade that we were one great big happy family and had each other's backs, but with the benefit of hindsight…. who knows.

I've wracked my brain in the days since getting called to Tony's apartment that night, trying to pinpoint exactly where our perfect little Ossie and Harriet 'family' began to fail him. Maybe it all began after Ari entered the picture, or perhaps it was Gibbs losing his memory when the rot really set in. It really impacted negatively on everyone when our fearless leader took off for sunnier climes and then when he got bored, decided to resume his role on the team that he'd earlier entrusted to his SFA with a cavalierly off-hand "you'll do" to Tony, taking it off him in an even more bastard-like fashion than usual (if that was even possible.)

Looking back, now I recognise that what preceded that event had marred my friend fundamentally and irrevocably; it made him even more uncertain about his worth, professionally and personally. It sure as heck made him vulnerable to the machinations of Director Shepard, who courtesy of his Psych. Evals, background checks along with his personnel file, gave her plenty of ammunition with which to use and abuse Tony. To manipulate him so she could pursue her personal vengeance using the assets of the agency and its best undercover agent. But apart from all the Intel on Tony that Jenny had at her disposal as the director, she had a secret weapon to really ensure that Tony would perform his undercover role for her.

Working as Gibbs' protégé, she knew well all his mind games and techniques to manipulate and knew how much Tony was struggling with his abandonment, plus the contempt of his team mates, which isolated him further. Hell, for all I know, she was egging on the terrible twosome to be openly insubordinate, although I think she was a bit more Machiavellian than that. Looking back, all she had to do to sabotage Very Special Anthony DiNozzo was appoint McGee as the Senior Field Agent, when he was woefully ill prepared and under-qualified for the job. I mean, how can someone with less than two full years of field experience, one as a probationary field agent in his first job be suitably qualified to be second in command to the premier MCRT in the agency?

After all, Tony had six years as a cop, both as a street cop and also as one of the youngest detectives in the country, before Gibbs snaffled him up to join the agency as his second in command. And then he had another five years working under the hardest taskmaster in the agency, possibly in any agency, as his 2IC before he assumed the lead of the team. Tim, in contrast, was obviously inexperienced, green and to anyone with half a brain, clearly not nearly ready for the promotion.

The proof of that pudding can easily be seen in the way he failed to fulfil the major brief of the job and have the team leader's back. He was insubordinate and snotty, constantly trying to sabotage and belittle Tony's efforts to assume command and put his own stamp of leadership on the team by telling him he was a poor imitation of the leader who had walked out and left them all behind. It showed in the fact that instead of putting Ziva and Abby in their place when they questioned Tony's authority and backing him to the hilt, as was in his job description, he sided with them and acted like what he was - an raw junior agent who was too inexperienced, too damned immature to have the requisite insights that his ability and skills weren't anywhere approaching those of the new team lead.

It made no sense to appoint him to the position of SFA when what Tony really needed as a new team leader was an experienced SFA, or at least one that had the skills and the psychological maturity to assume the role. Instead, Jenny gave him McGee, who proceeded to behave like a bratty child who had delusions of grandeur and thought he had more right to lead the team than Tony did. He needed someone that had his six, and if that wasn't enough to cope with… which it was incidentally…more than enough, he definitely didn't need the added stress of trying to train a rank rookie like Probationary Special Agent Michelle Lee, who was green as grass, to boot. But Director Shepard needed a team that didn't have Tony's six; one that was too busy trying to overthrow him, to notice that he was ducking off to work undercover while continuing to run the MCRT.

She would have to have known after working with Ziva for several years and being privy to the dossiers that she'd prepared on the team, that she didn't have any professional respect for Tony, and that she didn't work well as part of a team, too used to running her own show. It wouldn't take an Einstein to figure out that Ziva would think that she was much better qualified to lead the team, and would defy his orders at every turn. Would Jenny have even bothered to explain to Ziva that as a liaison she wasn't eligible to hold a supervisory position on the team and should pull her head in? Somehow I doubt it. Should she have done so as the Director of the Agency when she saw Ziva making it so difficult for Tony try to put the team back together in the wake of Gibbs departure? Oh yeah… absolutely!

Jenny would also have known about McGee's passive-aggressive personality coupled with his blind ambition from his Psych Profile, and that Lee was too nervous and inexperienced to stand up to the other agents and give Tony the support he needed. McGee was never going to be strong enough, confident enough to stand up to such an assertive person as the Mossad officer. I know that she made me almost wet my pants on occasions and Tim especially back then was almost as much of a wimp as me. All of which added up to a disastrous team dynamic that should have been balanced out by a strong experienced agent to fill the vacant senior field agent slot. Instead, she gave him McGee, and that spoke volumes about her intentions. So darned easy to be wise after the event, though…

Yeah, it was all too clear in hindsight! She knew that Tony could carry the team when it came to investigation because of his professional experience as a homicide detective and working for five years with Gibbs. Yet she ensured the one thing that he craved, the acceptance and respect of his team, would not be forthcoming, and it would leave him feeling isolated and alienated. Then by making sure the team was toxic, she got to play the good guy; praising his efforts with positive reinforcement, which was like oxygen to the man who had had an emotionally impoverished childhood. She became his support system, letting him know she appreciated him and had his back when no one else did, earning his undying loyalty and gratitude.

In essence, she became his friend and fulfilled the role that Gibbs had filled as his mentor, and made him feel needed, appreciated and trusted. So much so that he was willing to walk through fire for her to justify the faith she'd shown in him. For his friends, Tony was always prepared to step in front of a bullet to help or protect them. It was one of his most endearing qualities and one of his greatest vulnerabilities. And then he'd spent his nights with a beautiful, smart, caring woman who actually saw his intelligence and appreciated him.

One who he couldn't stop getting close to him emotionally, one he couldn't chase away by dumping her when he started developing deep feelings for her, which was his modus operandi ever since his fiancé broke his heart. Little wonder then that Tony fell in love with Dr. Jeanne Benoit. Indeed, if he hadn't fallen head over heels for her, it would have been little short of a miracle, given how much crap he was enduring.

For the Director to act all shocked and claim that she didn't realise that he'd gotten too close to Jeanne was crap, and the fact that he was so reluctant to enter into a sexual relationship with her would have been proof enough to Shepard that he had gotten way too emotionally invested in his undercover role. But it suited Jenny Shepard's purposes completely to claim ignorance because making sure he developed feelings for the doctor guaranteed he wouldn't skip out on the mission, even if Gibbs came back again.

Oh, yeah, in hindsight it was blatantly clear that Director Shepard set Tony up as soon as Gibbs lit out for the wide blue yonder, safe in the knowledge that Tony no longer had anyone watching his back. Well, admittedly, I did try to step up and be his friend, but there was only so much an autopsy gremlin could realistically do to counter what was going on in the team, and she played him completely. Although I really don't see how it could have played out any differently, not with her holding all the cards and being prepared to use them to achieve her goal.

The only other explanation for her appointing a completely inexperienced and unsuitable agent to fill the role of SFA and appoint an equally inexperienced rookie Lee to the elite MCRT was that she was flat out incompetent. But anyone who was Gibbs' former protégé wouldn't be incompetent or manage to fill the big chair, so I have to conclude that her actions were carefully contrived to achieve her own ends. She was determined to avenge her father's death and screw the cost to anyone that got in the way, even if it happened to be the very agent that allowed her to realise her ambition.

Tony had confided to me one night when he'd had too much to drink that he was sure that Jenny had had her revenge and that she'd killed 'The Frog', although he couldn't prove it. I can't say I shed any tears when she died, except perhaps for the fact that my friend blamed himself for following her orders when she ordered him and Ziva off protection duties. Suspecting that she had nefarious pursuits to um…er pursue, he'd wanted to be as far away from them as possible after being screwed over by her so badly with the Benoits.

He paid a terrible cost for her blind thirst for retribution, and now revenge had cost him once again. We should have known, should have said something, and should have done something. Shoulda, coulda, woulda…if only…

~ An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~

Flashback

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo lay in his bed, his body aching all over. He was exhausted, yet unable to go to sleep. His fractured arm was elevated on several pillows as he tried not to jostle it. He knew that Ducky would be furious with him if he knew that he'd ditched his splint and sling but it was so swollen that keeping the splint on simply wasn't an option and when he'd removed it the throbbing had decreased somewhat. Tony knew that Ducky would chastise him severely for not calling him or going to the hospital when his arm continued swelling, making it too uncomfortable to wear the splint that kept the fracture immobilised but it was late and he didn't want to bother the medical examiner. Nor did he feel up to dragging his aching body out to a hospital tonight. He was battling jet-lag from the lightening quick trip to Tel Aviv and he was beyond exhausted.

He was still really hurting from the beating he'd taken few days ago when he tried to arrest a Kidon assassin and the guy had decided to resist, violently. Then there was the long and arduous flight to Tel Aviv and back again in a C130 military transport, not even flying coach on a commercial airliner in a proper seat. Considering he was bruised literally from head to foot, had a fractured radius, bruised ribs and collarbone from the fight for his life with a highly trained killer, the flight had been one more torture that he really didn't need. Having to constantly brace himself to prevent his body from getting flung around had left him feeling bone weary with bruises upon his older bruises. Even on the trip to Tel Aviv, it had left his muscles tense and contracted, and that had been further exacerbated on the return trip.

Of course, some of his pain wasn't just due to his beating at the hands of Officer Michael Rivkin, but because of a more recent attack upon his person. When he'd tried to talk to Ziva after her father's shocking confession, she had been in a murderous rage and taken him out with such force he'd displaced his fractured arm as he hit the ground, well that was according to Ducky when he examined him back in DC. That hadn't been the most shocking part of the assault though for Tony. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the memory of his partner, someone he'd trusted with his life on far too many occasions, taking her loaded gun and holding it at point blank range as she aimed it first at his heart threatening to pull the trigger before aiming it at his thigh, too, stopping herself only at the last minute from pulling the trigger.

Tony could see a primordial anger in her eyes that had utterly chilled his soul. It spoke of rage, grief and betrayal. It was no exaggeration to say that he had felt the cold chill of the Angel of Death's wings, waiting to escort his soul to the afterlife before Ziva hauled herself back from the abyss of hate where she had hovered. But it had been a close thing!

And he wasn't even going to think about the emotional pain he was going through, either. It had been hard enough to deal with the aftermath of discovering that his cop partner had been corrupt and he'd felt completely betrayed by Detective Danny Price, but even Danny had never accused him of murder or threatened his life. Ziva had taken his trust and smashed it into tiny little pieces, and he wondered just how many more times his heart could go on putting itself back together again. Each time, the process was more difficult and the results were more flawed.

Wishing he could surrender to his exhaustion, Tony tried to ignore his pain, but waiting hours before Ducky could reset his arm hadn't been the most ideal situation. He was surely paying that cost now as his arm throbbed with a fierce intensity. Yet he hadn't felt as if he had any choice since he hadn't felt safe enough around Rivkin's co-workers to seek medical treatment at a hospital or clinic while they were in Israel. He strongly suspected if he did, he would simply disappear, and frankly he didn't feel like he could trust Director Vance or even Gibbs to protect him while they were in Tel Aviv. He felt like a pawn in a much larger game that was being played out where if it was expedient, he would be sacrificed without a second thought. So he knew that the most prudent action was to suck it up, say nothing and go and see Ducky when he was safely back in DC.

He still felt vulnerable here in DC in light of his superiors' alacrity in throwing him on a plane to Tel Aviv while wounded and without adequate support, and they had stood by while he was interrogated using questionable force. Still, home was a Hell of a lot safer for him than seeking medical help in Israel. That didn't meant to say that TPTB wouldn't turn a blind eye if an officer of Mossad decided to redress any perceived guilt by killing him though; it had been made quite plain that he was expendable.

So once Ducky examined him and clucked disapprovingly when the kindly ME saw the state of his injured arm, Tony didn't even try to appear contrite at the delay, or even explain it. Looking at it as he sat on an autopsy table, he grimaced, noting how much additional swelling and fresh bruising there was, and that was apart from the pain. According to the medical examiner, it had been further exacerbated by the rough trip back in the C130, and as it had been ignored instead of reset, it had become increasingly swollen as inflammatory cells rushed to the site of injury. With no help forthcoming, his already stressed body did its best to defend against the assault by making it more and more difficult to ignore.

The swelling, apart from contributing to the pain, made it difficult to set his arm again, and Ducky had demanded to know how he had reinjured it and gained so many fresh bruises although he'd refused to discuss the attack or the Mossad Director's interrogation, Ducky had been sneaky. While giving him a muscle relaxant to help him reduce the fracture and cause no further damage to muscles and ligaments when they were forced back into alignment after hours of trauma, the M.E. had slipped in an analgesic, too. Sneaky, because he knew that Tony would refuse the painkiller if he asked, so he hadn't. Rule #18 applied here quite nicely!

Of course, if Tony's tongue became loose and he was incapable of self-censorship of his thoughts or emotions and developed verbal diarrhoea, then Ducky was not at all apologetic or above asking some pertinent questions, either. So it meant that the medical examiner and his trusty assistant, Jimmy Palmer, now knew how he'd displaced his fracture and aggravated his previous injuries, which was bad enough, Tony concluded as he lay in bed tortured and wishing he could toss and turn without pain, so he could at least relieve some of the anxiety that he was experiencing. But Tony, to his great embarrassment, had also gone ahead and spewed forth about his emotional hurt and feelings of betrayal, revealing how his superiors had thrown him to the wolves for their own selfish reasons.

He'd ranted about how Vance clearly felt that it was acceptable for a Mossad officer to enter the US illegally and hunt and kill alleged terrorists without informing any relevant agencies, not to mention the fact he'd contributed to the death of a federal agent. Yet when Rivkin resisted arrest and tried to kill Tony, and subsequently been killed by him in self-defence, Director Vance had seen fit to drag his ass to Israel to answer to Eli David. The fact that he had already been cleared by the forensic evidence seemed immaterial; he'd had to defend himself against a charge that his own country and agency had deemed as self-defence. Moreover, he'd been expected to do so without any legal representation, consular assistance or even support from his own agency. He hadn't even had time to consult a representative from the Union, either.

And once they arrived in Tel Aviv, Vance had ordered him to go off on his own with Officer Hadar in a separate vehicle and he could have so easily_ been_ _disappeared_. Nor had Gibbs spoken up in his defence when Mossad had separated him off from the rest of their entourage at the airfield, where his safety could not be guaranteed. In fact, Tony had felt extremely intimidated by the tactic of divide and conquer, and he knew damned well that it had been intentional mind games. So much for the boss always having his six!

Then later Ziva's father insisted on interrogating him using the highly unimaginative yet oh so predicable technique of physical persuasion, _no Anthony DiNozzo was no weakling and he'd be damned if he'd give Eli David any more power over him by calling it torture, even if it had been or that it had also been thankfully short-lived._ Still, when Eli used his injuries to try to intimidate and break him, Vance and Gibbs hadn't even protested and that hurt, maybe worse than what Ziva's father had inflicted upon him. The pain he'd felt when Director David had pressed down on his shoulders and dug his fingers in like talons into his bruised clavicle, had been excruciating, replacing the dull steady ache in his left collar bone with a sharp knife-like hurt that stole his breath away. Although the ER doc had said he's sustained a soft tissue injury, pain receptors amped up the pain level and radiated down to his fractured arm and bruised ribs, making it even more difficult to breathe and not reveal how much pain he was experiencing. He'd learnt early on that bullies would only zero in it and turn up the heat if you showed any weakness.

Desperate to get away from the agony, he'd dialled up the obnoxious DiNozzo factor to the max, knowing it was quickest way to rattle the bastard. Still, when the sadist grabbed him by the throat which 24 hours previously had been crushed in a viscous choke hold by the Kidon assassin, leaving his esophogus so badly bruised he could barely eat or drink and he'd wondered how David had managed to zero in on two injuries that hadn't been obvious. He didn't believe in co-incidence which left him with the disquieting conclusion that someone had leaked his confidential medical report to the Mossad director. The fact that he'd successfully managed to turn the tables and tricked Eli into revealing the truth about Rivkin had convinced him that the only person he could depend on from hereon in was Anthony DiNozzo, and that left him feeling very exposed and alone. While Vance had professed to be impressed by his turning of the tables and trapping Eli into confessing, Tony hadn't felt much comfort in his director's sudden approval.

Much to Tony's chagrin, he had also spewed out to Ducky and Gremlin his hurt and betrayal over Gibbs' failure to defend him to anyone. Even though he had been following Gibbs' orders in investigating Ziva's involvement with Rivkin and her refusal to be straight with them, he was embarrassed that the man that he idolised had in effect left him without backup. He knew that Gibbs viewed Ziva as a surrogate daughter, but if the boss had confronted her on her duplicity and his own suspicions, then she might not have persisted in the ludicrous notion that he'd killed Rivkin because he was jealous of him and apparently 'wanted' her.

Yet Gibbs had stayed silent and made it seem as if he was a loose cannon and he'd gone off on his own to pursue Rivkin after the case was marked as 'closed'. When the truth was, his suspicions had been justified that Rivkin had been involved in Agent Sherman's death. Yet, as far as he knew or could tell, even Vance didn't know that he had been following Gibbs' instructions. Instead of observing his precious Rule #1, Gibbs had let him twist in the breeze when all he needed to do was state that Tony had simply been following orders. The mistake he made was trusting Ziva and wanting to protect her from the shit he'd assumed she would face in being involved with Rivkin and lying about it. Yet, it seemed that his lapse in procedure was viewed as a much bigger transgression than the fact that Ziva had lied to them or had been passing classified Intel to Mossad without authorisation, at least according to what Abbs and McGee had uncovered. Go figure!

Still, Tony hadn't wanted anyone to know how upset he was, how betrayed he felt by Gibbs' silence. Hell yes, he was hurt, but that didn't mean he wanted Ducky or Jimmy to know that the man he admired more than anyone else in his life had left him without backup when he needed it the most. That was just rubbing salt into the wounds, and he cursed his idiosyncratic reactions to medications that had left him open to flapping his gums.

As he shifted marginally in his bed and groaned pathetically since every inch of his body hurt, he couldn't help but think that insanity must run in the David DNA. Seriously, that Ziva could actually accuse him of being a murderer because he was supposed to be jealous that Ziva and Michael Rivkin were lovers? He really had to think that she was projecting her own feelings onto him, which in itself was very worrying.

Since not long after she had come back from her sojourn back at Mossad earlier this year when she'd appeared to have hooked up with Michael, whom she knew from childhood, Ziva had suddenly been throwing herself at him. Recalling the scene in Gibbs' conference room at the end of that FUBAR war game crap, she'd caught him off guard, suddenly proclaiming her unwillingness to conceal her feelings for him any longer. He'd assumed at the time, perhaps wrongly, that it had been prompted by being in such close proximity when adrenaline levels had been raging as they attempted to evade detection. So even though he hadn't responded in kind when she'd practically thrown herself at him, he was supposed to be the jealous one?

Still, she'd apparently had no compunction in turning right back around and picking up on her affair with Michael. Apart from the completely illogical accusation of him being jealous, it also hurt Tony badly that she had such little regard for him, her partner for the last three plus years. Did she really have such a poor opinion of him that she could really think he would kill another person because he was jealous? Obviously, she did, and that cut him to the quick.

Honestly, Tony couldn't understand how Ziva would ever believe that they could be a couple. Sure when she first joined the team, he had flirted with her unmercifully, and he'd have to be a eunuch or gay to not have experienced some level of lust when she'd flirted right back at him, but he'd assumed that she knew it was only harmless flirting. Tony flirted with everyone - Hells bells, he'd even told Gibbs once that he loved him when he pinched the night shift's pizza to give him when he was on a stakeout in the pouring rain, but it didn't mean that he was interested in Gibbs, either. After all, even if he was remotely interested in Ziva David, which he wasn't, there was always Rule #12 as an impediment, although personally he'd thought it was a damned good one. Although where Gibbs' Rule #12 was _never date a co-worker_, Tony's was a slightly modified one and it was _never date a team mate._

Dating Paula Cassidy, who was a colleague but not a team mate, hadn't resulted in them being unable to work together when they broke up, but he would never sleep with a team member where they worked together on a team on a daily basis. That was plain stupid and asking for trouble if one of them turned psycho. He'd had female partners as a cop as well as a federal agent, and he would never blur the lines between a partner and a lover. He needed someone watching his six that wouldn't be sulking because he'd forgotten and left the toilet seat up again or didn't pick up a wet towel.

That didn't mean that he didn't care about or sometimes even love his partners over the years, but it did mean that their relationship would always remain platonic or even familial. So while he might flirt shamelessly with them, he would never cross the line and fall into bed with them. In fact, he'd always thought up until Ziva's emotional outburst after the Domino fiasco, that Ziva flirted with him because she knew that there would never, could never be anything between them, a fact that made it safe and relieved the tension they faced. It seemed he'd very wrongly thought of it as a harmless diversion based on her own admissions that she was hardly a blushing ingénue given her Mossad training.

And Tony told himself that while they were friends and partners, there was simply no way that she could ever love him or want to have a genuine meaningful and adult relationship with him. Ziva had made it clear in every possible way that she didn't respect him as an agent, as demonstrated by her entrenched insubordination and her refusal to follow his orders. She had seemed to be completely oblivious to the irony when she lectured him about following the chain-of-command after Domino, and yet had just ignored his own order for her to stand down. Then there was the blatant demonstration that he had failed to win her respect when she showed exactly how much she didn't trust him or his skills as her supervisor, when she was on the run from the FBI. She'd chosen not to follow SOP and come to him for help when she was in trouble, preferring to seek out a booze-riddled amnesiac who wasn't even in the country. Then there was the matter of the intelligence dossier she'd prepared where she had labelled him as _Agent Meatball._

And if it came down to it, why was it okay for her to use a racially derogatory slur to describe him in a report to her Mossad colleagues when she would have accused him of racial bigotry if he had dared to use any terms that might be even remotely construed as referring to her Semitic heritage? Yet in another equally offensive and stunning example of hypocrisy, Ziva could perpetuate a stupid racial stereotype that Italian males were excessively hirsute when she started calling him _her hairy little butt _as a supposed term of from it being a fallacy generally, and more specifically in his case, Tony was second generation American on his Italian side and first generation on his English side, and he found it offensive to pigeon-hole him based on his racial antecedents, not to say just down right out and out wrong.

Truthfully, Tony hadn't put much stock in Ziva's adrenaline fuelled declarations of undying love for obvious reasons. If he'd thought for a moment that it wasn't a remnant of being caught up in a situation where they both were concerned for each other after having the crap beaten out of them by the Marines guarding Domino, he would have laughed until he wet himself. After all, unlike his Mossad trained team mate who was schooled in seduction techniques, he was, despite his reputation, someone who becomes emotionally attached to people far too easily. That was why after Wendy had taken his heart and comprehensively ripped it apart, he sworn never again, and commenced serial dating and acting like an obnoxious jerk. That way, no one was ever tempted to stay with him long enough to get to know and love the real Anthony DiNozzo and he didn't fall in love.

It was his protection like a porcupine has spines to drive off predators or an armadillo has armour, his was acting juvenile and shallow. But Jeanne had seemed to see the real him almost immediately, and the longer he was with her the more that she broke through his emotional walls. Ziva, in spite of the countless hours they had spent together over the years, never did see beyond his guises. She simply wasn't able to understand that the mission with Jeanne had broken his heart, absolutely and irrevocably. She just didn't get that even more than a year after it all went FUBAR, he still hadn't been able to recover, to reconstruct the playboy slash frat brother persona that he had used in the past as his armour.

Truthfully, he just couldn't be, correction he wouldn't be in a relationship with anyone who was so damn clueless about how much he was hurting. So much so that she thought that she could snap him out of a funk by following him into the men's head and berate him for being foolish enough to fall in love with his mark. So much for sensitivity but didn't appreciate it when he'd had the temerity to point out that she didn't have room to lecture him on that score since she had fallen in love with a witness in a case, and that was even knowing that he was dying. Not that she'd learnt from that since less than a year after lecturing him she'd slept with a suspect while she was undercover looking for a serial killer. Still, she'd the hubris to act as if he'd behaved like a boorish pig for pointing it out it she didn't have a right to judge him, demanding an apology for upsetting her. No, he needed someone with more empathy, someone who wouldn't go around accusing him of shooting her current lover because he was jealous that he hadn't been in her bed, for pity's sake!

He honestly hoped that Ziva would find happiness, and with her crappy childhood, she deserved it, but that didn't mean that he wanted them to be anything more that partners. Seriously, after her accusations and the assault, he didn't know if it was going to be possible for them to even work together, since he didn't know how he was supposed to trust her again. If it came down to it, he really wasn't sure he could trust anyone from the agency to have his back any longer.

Truthfully, he felt let down by NCIS, and was convinced that if it had suited his superiors' purposes, he would be sacrificed on the altar to the so called _greater good._ For Vance, that meant keeping Papa David in his happy place, and for Gibbs it meant keeping his surrogate daughter Ziva from being pissed with him for having any involvement in Rivkin's death. Tony felt that the only reason why his worthless ass had been permitted to get on the C130 back to DC was because his smart mouth. He'd managed to goad Eli David into admitting that Rivkin had been under orders to sleep with Ziva, kill the terrorists and crash the intelligence summit of a trusted ally, resulting in an ICE agent's death. Essentially, he'd embarrassed the crap out of the Mossad Director and it bought him a temporary reprieve. Yet he was under no illusions that he had made a formidable enemy out of Ziva's father, and he knew he was going to have to watch his back in future, and not rely on anyone else to do it, either. That sort of misplaced trust could see him dead!

Still, the one thing Tony had managed not to spill his guts to Ducky about, and he was eternally grateful for that, was the deep betrayal he also felt over Ziva's behaviour, starting when Gibbs and McGee had been working with OSP in LA. Sure, he understood how she was in a conflicting situation as a liaison officer, serving two masters, but it wasn't like she didn't know that when she accepted the position in the first place. And it wasn't as if the team hadn't been good to her or anything, having her back and treating her as family, especially since she had a fair degree of culpability in the death of Caitlyn Todd, along with her half-brother. So he was feeling angry at her for betraying them, and she had the gall to act like she was the wronged party when she had lied to all of them all along, and then accused him of being a liar and a murderer.

Remembering the anger and outrage that she had directed at him after Rivkin died and the hatred she focused at him on the flight over, he shivered at the depth of her anger. He could sort of understand that she was in shock and wanted to blame someone else for Michael's death. It was so much less complicated to blame him rather than Michael for resisting arrest, or admit that her own actions, not to mention Rivkin's and Mossad's agenda, had resulted in her lover's death.

But her overwhelming fury directed at him after he'd managed to trick Eli David into admitting, in the presence of his daughter, that Rivkin was acting on his orders had deeply disturbed him. Clearly her 'daddy' issues prevented her from expressing her justified anger at her father, and it seemed that along with her feelings of betrayal at her friend with benefits/sometimes lover, it had coalesced and centred upon him instead. Not that that in any way excused what she'd done.

Having such volatile emotions combined with her lethal training, she was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. After being attacked by her, Tony was very concerned about her mental state. How could he not be? He could deal with the physical attack…barely, because it had been impulsive, he decided, and while it was completely unacceptable behaviour and a betrayal of everything he held dear for a partner to turn on him, what was utterly shit-scary was her pointing a loaded gun at him.

Tony was under no allusions about how close he came to returning to DC in a pine box today. The madness and desire for retribution was clear to him when he'd stared into her eyes, and he wondered why Gibbs and his all-knowing gut didn't seem capable of seeing it. He also couldn't help wondering if the next time she snapped, if she would be able to step back from the abyss before she went too far. It scared him, because he didn't think she was capable of having his six anymore.

And watching her fervent hatred as she settled down beside Gibbs in the C130 on their return trip when she glared at Tony, he wondered how it would ever be possible for them to work through it all. Deplaning upon their arrival, he shivered as if someone had passed over his grave, and he realised that Ziva's cold dead eyes were following him as he walked to the sedan that would take them back to the office. Grateful that Vance's driver was waiting to drive him separately to NCIS, Tony decided to stretch out on the backseat, knowing that he was returning with yet more bruises and soft tissue injuries, and his arm ached with an intensity that told him something was very wrong. He really hoped he wasn't going to need surgery to correct it.

Groaning as he looked at his digital bedside clock, still unable to sleep, he tried to decide if he should swallow his pride and take some heavy duty pain meds. Lying in his bed for the past few hours stewing about it all hadn't done any good. As he was weighing up the pros and cons of drugging his brains out, the power went out and Tony cursed the fact that he had never gotten around to replacing the back-up battery in the clock for power outages. Yet as sensory adaptation kicked in over the next minute or two, the black inky nothingness faded to reveal some light and shade in subtle gradations of black and indigo. Tony had always had keen senses, with superior eyesight, acute hearing and well-honed sense of smell; even so, he wasn't sure if his current state of paranoia was to blame. Alternatively, plunging his apartment into complete darkness, since his window blind had been closed at the time, had caused his hearing and smell to become hypersensitive. Whatever had caused it, it wasn't really relevant at that point since all that mattered was that someone had entered his apartment, and it wasn't someone who was invited or welcome.

Given that the person was trying too hard to remain silent, along with the fact that it was 0330 and not the time for normal people to make a social call, he was immediately on alert. There were only two people that realistically might want to visit him and have a means of gaining lawful entry to his apartment, and he was certain that his intruder was neither. Abby would be bouncing off the ceiling with all the Caff-Pows she had consumed and wouldn't be trying so hard to be silent, and her gunpowder perfume was way too distinctive for it to be her. Equally, Gibbs as the only other person he'd entrusted with a key to his apartment years ago, positively reeked of sawdust, Old Spice aftershave and coffee. Plus, he and Gibbs had this weird simpatico vibe where he was always aware of the Marine's presence whenever he was in close proximity, just as Gibbs seemed to be aware of him, too, without the need for speech.

Apart from which, while Abby might come to check up on him, he seriously doubted that Gibbs would bother, since he hadn't shown any particular desire to have his back since the Rivkin debacle went down. Oh yeah, sure he'd won Gibbs' approval over his checkmating Eli David in the interrogation room, but that was because Gibbs was such an uber-alpha personality. He no doubt felt that Tony's little victory had reflected well on him for handpicking his senior field agent and training him up. But the bottom line was that Abby and Gibbs were too damned smart to try and sneak up on an armed federal agent, since it was just asking for them to cop a bullet in the chest. So whoever it was that had entered his apartment was most definitely ill-intentioned.

Sensing rather than truly hearing the dirtbag sneaking toward his bedroom, Tony groaned silently, thinking of the gun he had secreted under his mattress, and knew that he needed to get to it quickly. That conviction was strengthened when he heard a slight rattle as his door was opened slowly. Knowing that it was going to hurt like hell, he took a deep breath and moved. Not bothering to take precious time getting out of his bed, Tony just rolled over to the edge and tried not to tense up as he fell off the bed. Of course tried being the operative word here, even as he twisted in mid-air so he was face planting the floor so that his right arm, his good arm, his shooting hand was closest to the bed, ready to reach under and grabbed his gun and released the safety catch in one smooth movement.

Although that was his plan, he was so focused on retrieving his gun he instinctively reached out to brace himself with his other hand as he landed. His left arm and shoulder bore all his body weight momentarily, before his arm collapsed in an excruciating pain and tearing of skin. He felt his collarbone snap before the imminent threat to his life took precedence. Tony's fight or flight response kicked in, allowing him to ignore the agony that his manoeuvre had caused him, even as he gave thanks for the painkilling properties of adrenaline. The federal agent rolled over onto his back so he was lying facing the doorway with his Glock aimed steadily, waiting as the door opened completely.

Although every last cell in his body was screaming out loud and clear that the intruder framed in the doorway of his bedroom had harmful intentions, Tony waited to see what would happen next. Just a few days ago he'd been forced to take a life and he knew it was justified, but he really didn't want to discharge his firearm in his own apartment and kill some hopped up junky looking for something to pawn for his next fix. Tony wasn't a killer, though he'd been forced to kill to save a life, his own or an innocent bystander, but even when it was justified, it was always a crappy thing to have to live with. So he waited and hoped that he was wrong and it was just some innocent mistake. In his heart though, he feared that Mossad had come to avenge one of their own.

Hearing the subtlest of squeaks from the shift in weight of the intruder and a familiar shift in air pressure, reminded Tony of the night that Ari tried to kill Abby when he'd felt more than saw, the bullet heading for her. Once again, Tony knew instinctively that something was propelling itself toward his bed. He didn't think it was a bullet from a silenced weapon; more likely it was a projectile such as a crossbow or a knife, and when it hit his bed with a force that bespoke its intent to kill, he steeled himself to fire. As he started squeezing the trigger, a penlight snapped on and the assailant, swathed in black and wearing a ski mask, was poised with a gun which rapidly took aim at his position, and Tony fired. Time froze as the gunman also squeezed off several shots intended to end his life.


	3. Chapter 3

Beta: This story has benefited greatly by the awesome beta-skills and input of Arress and I want to extend a humungous thanks to her for all her assistance. And you all know the drill... any boo-boos are my bad :)

A/N Thanks to everyone who reviewed alerted or favourited this story. I appreciate your support and hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Just to clarify, in this story Jimmy takes on the role of narrator and is written in 1st person while everyone else is written in 3rd person pov.

Apologies for the length of this chapter. It's very long and while I thought about splitting it in two to make it easier to read, I didn't want to be killed by irrate readers for pushing the cliff hanger reveal back a chapter :D Actually, truthfully, it would have affected the symmetry LOL. Some people raised some good questions that I hope this chapter will address.

An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everybody Blind

Chapter 3

Jimmy Palmer:

Coming home again after yet another forty-hour shift, which unfortunately is the lot of every young doctor earning their dues, I stopped to clear out the mail box as it hadn't been emptied for a couple of days. Along with miscellaneous bills and junk mail, there it was; the usual weekly postcard. This one was from Santa Fe, New Mexico, and after looking at it briefly, I placed it on the fridge when I entered my apartment. Opening the fridge door, I checked out the rather sparse contents inside and took out a leftover chickpea curry soup. Sniffing it to determine its viability, I decided that it was good to go and placed it into the microwave, nuking it before sitting down to eat. Even though I was exhausted, I knew from experience that this would be another night where insomnia claimed me and I wouldn't be able to switch off and sleep.

Like so many other sleepless nights I've spent in the days, weeks and yes, years since it happened, especially after the arrival of a postcard, I knew that instead of surrendering to the embrace of Morpheus, I would lie awake staring at the ceiling trying in vain to make sense out it all. Trying to figure out if there was a tipping point at which the senseless violence could have been prevented. All the while the ultimate irony isn't lost on me. Though I haven't worked at NCIS for quite some time, it doesn't mean I can stop my brain from torturing itself playing the 'what if' game.

It inevitably leads to a heavy-duty bout of introspection, going back over the years before it happened, pondering the imponderable, asking impotently if Tony hadn't been so comprehensively taken apart in the aftermath of the Frog fiasco, what then? Would he have found the strength to leave the team and the so-called family that he'd out-grown when they started punishing him rather than supporting him through an incredibly difficult period of his life? Could I have made a difference if I had spoken up in his defence?

I can never forgive Jenny Shepard for betraying her position of power and trust just so she could achieve her own petty vendetta. Still, it had been festering canker in her soul for 12 long years. Obviously Jenny had been waiting for the right moment in time to orchestrate her plan of revenge for her father's death. A daughter, grief-stricken over his suicide after he'd been accused of taking bribes from Jeanne's father, Rene Benoit.

I can't help but wonder now, if that was the real reason why she had broken off her tempestuous affair with Gibbs. After she took over as director, Tony had artfully confirmed that piece of scuttlebutt which was doing the rounds by sneakily grilling Dr. Mallard during one of our morning teas not long after Director Morrow had departed. As discreet as Ducky is, Tony easily managed to con him into confirming that they'd been together because he didn't ask Ducky a direct question. He was just gossiping as we drank tea and ate the Scottish Shortbread cookies… um, my bad… biscuits, as Dr. Mallard called them, that his mother had baked.

So, he was sitting there rambling on like some ditzy airhead, gossiping about how the sparks flew when they were pissed off at each other and that just screamed out "exes". And before Ducky could respond to that he'd rabbited on about Madame Director being Gibbs' type since she was a red head and how he felt sorry for her since he was a love 'em and leave 'em Lothario. And then he'd said how hard it must be to have to work in same office as her former lover who'd dumped her, so no wonder she was snarky with Gibbs constantly. That's when Ducky slipped up and corrected Tony, saying it was the other way round and Gibbs was deeply wounded when she'd dumped him six years previously due to her ambitions.

Tony had shot me a triumphant look over his teacup and remained silent and I realised how dangerous his dumb act really was. Dr. Mallard, who normally would never have betrayed a confidence, had just confirmed that Gibbs and the Director had an affair and that she'd broken up with him because of her career. And I doubt that he even realised what he had just revealed because Tony moved onto prattling on about the latest movie that he'd seen.

So now with the benefits of hindsight, I sometimes wonder if the real reason she was so focused on getting to the top had less to do with being the first woman to break through the glass ceiling. Maybe it had everything to do with finally being in a position to avenge her father's death, and she had convinced herself (without tangible proof I might add) that he'd been murdered by Rene Benoit. In which case, twelve years is very a long time to be so focused on achieving retribution, and clearly Jenny Shepard was a woman who had one serious obsession.

Not ever going to be able to excuse what she did since there is no excuse for her behaviour, or the way she was willing to sacrifice Tony and Jeanne to get what she wanted. But at least there is a reason why they were hurt so badly, since the woman was clearly in a world of hate and hurt to have held onto it for over a decade. Suicide, like revenge, is such a selfish act and a horrible legacy for friends and loved ones to have to live with, and for that I can feel a little compassion for Jenny.

Her contemptible behaviour was at least born out of the fact that she was a very sick woman, and no I'm not speaking of the terminal illness that she was diagnosed with either. I'm speaking about the festering vileness that her desire for revenge had become. An unspeakable monster slowly consuming her, taking every good attribute and corrupting it to its own ends of achieving revenge for her father. To have lived with that burning need to avenge for more than 12 years would be enough to destroy many individuals, and there are plenty of people who felt that her disease was a form of divine retribution. Me, I think that Jenny Shepard, not God or karma, with her all-consuming craving to take vengeance for Jasper Shepard's death, corrupted her soul and infested the very cells of her being.

But I'm not sure what excuse Tony's team mates could claim for treating him cruelly after his cover was blown so spectacularly when someone, probably Trent Kort from the CIA, blew up his beloved car. You know, it's weird! When we thought that Tony had been driving that car and been killed, there was a terrible pall over the whole office. I remember pulling up at the crime scene and there had been this eerie shroud of silence enveloping the block where the burnt out shell of his mustang lay smoking and the blackened shrivelled corpse that we believed to be Tony, was hunched over the steering wheel.

Everyone was in shock, even Gibbs and Ziva, who obviously were no strangers to horrific scenes of violent death, while McGee was frozen in horror as they alighted from the NCIS vehicle. They all acted totally devastated and seemed honestly grief-stricken, so you would have expected that they would be overjoyed to find out that Tony was alive, but the gilt was off the gingerbread, as my mom would say, pretty darned quick.

They all made him their whipping boy for following orders and working undercover and seemed to take much pleasuring in punishing him unmercifully. Gibbs gave him every crap job that was clearly meant to embarrass and belittle him and was damned cold to him. Why Gibbs felt the need to inflict such childish punishment on his 2IC I could never grasp, apart from extracting revenge for not being informed about his mission, even if he told Tony he understood that he'd been following orders. Or Frick and Frack, joining in on the 'kick Tony when he is down game' and making him pay for not only doing what he was ordered to do by the Director of the agency, but being a good enough undercover operative to pull it off without them figuring out what he'd been up to.

I mean, what possible reason could Gibbs, Ziva or McGee have to feel like they were owed retribution for him being undercover? What right did any of them have to make him pay for having to do something he wasn't even comfortable doing in the first place? It killed him to have to lie to everyone, especially Dr. Benoit, who he'd fallen head over heels for, and yet he'd followed orders. He'd believed that what he was doing would save the lives of Marine and Navy personnel, and their families and ultimately innocent US citizens, too. They weren't the ones who had been working for almost a year undercover and coming to work his day job simultaneously and treated like crap either. They weren't betrayed by a CIA agent who was supposed to be on our side, but decided that when Jenny wouldn't back off, it was a good idea to cut off the Hydra's head by revealing Tony's identity and blowing up his car. Nor were they left to deal with the aftermath of having his heart broken while knowing that he'd also broken Jeanne's.

If anyone deserved to feel like he was owed retribution for the damage that was done to him it was Tony, and yet his team mates turned on him as if he had done something unspeakable. I can't for the life of me understand their sense of entitlement in adding to his pain and despair. And even more inconceivable in hindsight was why we… I didn't speak up in Tony's defence and make them stop victimising him.

We could all see how much he was hurting and ignored it. He was more vulnerable and hurt than I'd ever seen him, and in our need to live in the fantasy world of Team Gibbs, Papa Bear and all his cubs, Gibbs and his Gibblets, Ducky, Abby and I turned our backs on him and let the team hurt him even more after Jenny Shepard had comprehensively screwed him over. Woulda, shoulda, coulda… If only…

~ An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~

Flashback

Ziva David paced around the Mossad safe-house where she was staying. Her apartment had been incinerated by a manufactured gas leak by her superiors after Tony had murdered Michael and the mess needed to be sanitised of forensic evidence. She had needed somewhere to crash after returning from Tel Aviv earlier today since she was exhausted, not to mention feeling the effects of jet lag, yet she couldn't sleep. Even though she hadn't been able to sleep for more than a few hours ever since her NCIS partner had killed her lover because of his juvenile inability to accept that she was sleeping with Michael, she just couldn't relax enough sleep.

All she could see when she closed her eyes was Michael's as his life-blood drained from him as he lay grievously wounded on her living room floor. Actually, even though she really didn't want to think about it now, she hadn't been getting a lot of sleep ever since Michael had come to stay with her. Both of them had extremely active libidos which were a fairly common attributes in Mossad operatives; it was actually selected for and encouraged as a legitimate tool that could be taken advantage of.

Of course, while they'd been rolling around the haystack, she had been fooling herself that Michael's feelings for her were as genuine as hers were for him. If she wasn't feeling so betrayed by him and her father, she supposed that she could appreciate the irony. A Mossad and Kidon trained agent well versed in all the aspects of sexual seduction for intelligence gathering, being manipulated using said skills by her own colleague and superiors to control her. As it was, she couldn't see anything remotely amusing about being caught in the same snare she had used on numerous occasions herself to gain advantage over others.

Ziva, even while feeling used and cheap, didn't stop to consider that maybe all the other marks she had slept with over the years had felt the same emotions of being exploited and their trust abused as she did currently. _Do unto others _was not a rule that a Mossad officer working for Eli David could afford to observe while still fulfilling their duties. It was more a case of _do unto others before they had a chance to screw you, _and introspection or ethical considerations were much despised qualities for an operative to indulge in. According to her father, it was the refuge of the weak-willed or those who didn't have terrorists living amongst them.

She and those Mossad officers like her were merely the sharp end of the spear that others aimed and directed into the soft underbelly of their enemies. They were the foot soldiers who weren't given the benefit of in-depth explanations or strategic rationales, and she had always been fine with that fact before. Yet now in her confusion, betrayal and anguish, Ziva was having a hard time understanding how she had suddenly become the enemy.

She had always been loyal to Mossad. Tony had even called her the dutiful Mossad agent a long time ago, and that still held true, well it had right up until her father had all but admitted that he'd ordered Michael to sleep with her. If he distrusted her so much why the Hades had he let her return to NCIS earlier this year? Why not insist that she remain in Israel? Ziva was confused and it made no sense.

In fact, truth be bold, she didn't understand the reasons why her father had wanted to place her on Gibbs' team in the first place, especially considering how reluctant he had been to let her return after the team had been disbanded. Had she already fulfilled her purpose, and if so, what had it been? Nor did she grasp for that matter, why Officer Bashan had reprimanded her for sleeping with Tony DiNozzo in the months that Gibbs had retired from leading the team several years ago. Frankly, she couldn't understand her father's ire about that situation at all. She'd been instructed to win Gibbs' trust and loyalty and she had done it by playing into his unresolved grief over the death of his daughter and first wife.

She knew that trying to manipulate Gibbs sexually wouldn't work, after all she had drawn up the team's profiles for Mossad and Ari, and the fact that Gibbs had gone through three wives - all red heads, and she clearly wasn't was one, was a big clue. But a case early on after she joined the team showed that Gibbs' true vulnerability wasn't women, or even sex; it was children and his thwarted instincts and desires as a father. Watching him with the freakishly precocious and frankly rather insufferable six-year-old child whose father had been kidnapped, had showed her quickly how to take his obligation over her killing Ari and turn his need to express his paternal instincts into being her surrogate dad.

But then all bets were off when he stomped off in a fit of pique at the obese felines willing to suffer some collateral damage rather than tolerate being embarrassed, combined with his unresolved grief, all of which caused him to nut off to Mexico. Once there, he concentrated on pickling himself with alcohol with his mentor as company and drinking companion. She really hadn't expected him to return.

Honestly, Ziva was shocked that Gibbs had been allowed to re-gain such a position of influence when he was clearly compromised psychologically. Americans bemused and sometimes angered Ziva, since they were Israel's allies, and they had such screwed down priorities. They were so paranoid about having soldiers who were gay serving in the military, law enforcement and intelligence agencies because they argued that they could become a national security risk, but to her mind, Gibbs was just as much of a potential security risk if you knew what his vulnerability was. Furthermore, she had proved just how easy it was to earn his trust, and if she could manipulate him as an ally, it was equally possible for America's enemies to as well. They could find out about his wife and daughter just as easily as she had and to set him up with an agent who was a single mother.

The fact he was obsessively secret about his family was a big crimson flag and Ziva was extremely surprised that no one seemed to understand how vulnerable he, and therefore the agency, was. She'd expected when he un-retired that he wouldn't be allowed to resume his place in the field until he had resolved his grief issues. But his continuing obsessive behaviour and extreme anger every time a case came along that involved a wife and children that was even remotely close enough to Gibbs' own experience to trigger his unresolved issues, made it was clear that hadn't happened.

While it made him highly motivated to solve those crimes, it made him ride his team far too hard, and made the chances of him missing extraneous factors far more likely. Essentially, in Eli David's Mossad, he would be viewed as a liability and would be forced to deal with his issues or face mandatory retirement. Of course, in Mossad mandatory retirement often meant something different to what it did in the US. Ari had taken mandatory retirement!

And Ziva could understand why her father might have some jealousy issues with her playing up to Gibbs as his surrogate daughter, and she had to admit that it had really become something less than an act on her part lately. What she couldn't understand though was him going mailman over her sleeping with DiNozzo when he'd become the team lead of the MCRT. She had been furious to find out that she had been under surveillance by her own people and she had reacted with extreme anger, not understanding why it was okay to curry favour with Gibbs and not with DiNozzo. It wasn't logical and went against her training.

It wasn't like she could use the same technique with him as she had with Gibbs when he was in charge, after all, although if she had been a male and older she might have been able to exploit his need for older male approval since he had such an impoverished childhood. She'd figured out when putting together his profile that Tony's currency was attention, preferably positive attention, but any sort of attention since he'd been severely deprived as a child. Usually he found attention through engaging in meaningless sex with a constant array of fresh bingos ever since his rejection by his fiancé and his reluctance to hand over power to any one individual again. So it made sense to curry favour with him by offering to be what the Americans called _friends with beneficials. _Considering that her people used sex as a tool and technique routinely, she simply couldn't see why her father had such an objection with her having sex with her team leader.

Of course, Ziva hated to admit it, but while she really didn't understand why it was such an issue, she was also sensitive about Mossad spying on her. And for Mossad, read Eli David, and his reaction if he/they knew the truth because although she had thrown herself at DiNozzo, flaunted herself, subjected him to her array of seduction techniques and ended up all but raping the guy, he had ignored her invitations. Every week that they had gotten together it had been for a purely platonic rendezvous as he used his love of the cinema to try and expand her understanding of American pop culture, which he explained rather patronisingly she'd thought, would make her a better investigator. While he was happy enough to snuggle up beside her on her sofa watching movies and eating takeout week after week, and he would even throw his arm around her in an affectionate fashion sometimes, the moment she tried to change it up into something sexual, he always politely froze her up.

Ziva was confused and incensed by his continual rebuffing of her invitations, both as a trained Mossad officer and as a highly desirable female. She had always assumed when Gibbs was in charge, that Tony wouldn't break his precious Rule #12, since he was so busy tying himself in knots to win Gibbs' approval, so she had every expectation that once Gibbs was gone, he would cave in. After months of frustrated attempts to seduce him, Ziva was pissed, since she had never had a seduction failure before. She knew she was highly attractive since many man and the occasional woman had told her so, and they had been more than happy to succumb to her attentions. So Ziva was left with only one possible explanation for her failure, Anthony DiNozzo was merely playing at being heterosexual when he was in fact gay. Of course when she came to this conclusion, Ziva felt relief that her training and skills could not be blamed for her failed attempts to seduce him.

Sure it was humiliating to have to admit to herself that she had been hoodblinked by DiNozzo into believing he was straight. However it was far less damaging to her psyche than having to deal with the knowledge that she wasn't sexually desirable, or for that matter, as skilled in sexual persuasion as she had been led to believe. Ziva had never failed to seduce anyone before and didn't handle her failure well, but if it was because she simply didn't have the anatomical equipment to arouse him, then she hadn't really failed in her task. So, then when it became increasingly obvious that Tony had fallen head over soles for a woman and was planning on living with her, it felt like a kick in the mouth. Even when she found out that Jeanne Benoit was a mark in an undercover mission, it was warm comfort seeing as DiNozzo was blatantly infatuated with that spoilt, silly Barbie doll.

That was probably why she took so much satisfaction in making him pay for not telling them about his undercover mission when it all went apple-shaped, never missing an opportunity to put the shoe in about him keeping secrets. The rest of the team were just as humiliated as she was at being fooled, well maybe not, since they hadn't been turned down in favour of an overly indulged daughter of a drug dealer. But Gibbs was furious about being deceived too, although he said that he understood Tony was following Jenny's orders not to tell them about his mission. That said, his actions spoke louder than his words and he treated Tony like faeces or ignored him. Tim had been irate thinking that he would have been much better suited at posing as a college professor, or maybe he thought that a doctor should go out with a computer genius, and he made sure he never missed the opportunity to make comments that would hurt DiNozzo.

As she sipped at a cup of jasmine tea, hoping it would relax her enough to get some sleep, she thought about their return to the office earlier on. Ziva winced as she thought about how Abby and McGee had greeted her when she arrived, and she was angry. It was as if they no longer trusted her, like she an outsider rather than a trusted member of their team, and she jumped up and grabbed her keys and wallet and headed to her car. She was so furious, and she had to do something about it. It was Tony's fault, and he had no right to go poking his eyes in her business with Michael or Mossad, especially when he had kept secrets from the team and her. Talk about the pot blackening the kettle's reputation!

Obviously, he had not only been deceiving the team, sneaking around spying on her, but he'd been deluding himself. Clearly, he was obsessed with investigating her private business because he was jealous about her being with Michael. More than likely he was regretting the fact that she had once again offered to have a sexual liaison with him and he had turned her down. She had thought that he was ready after she had gotten up close and personal with him while they were hiding in a cupboard at the Marine facility. Although he'd acted like an emu with his head in the sand when she made her move and pretended to be angry with their superiors, he was clearly afraid to accept her offer because of Gibbs idiotic Rule #12. But when he found out about Michael, it was obvious he couldn't deal with his jealousy any longer.

Ziva knew that she couldn't forgive Tony for betraying her and killing Michael. He'd made people suspect her loyalty, and her father had already told her that her ability to be an effective liaison between Mossad and NCIS was jeopardised. All because of Michael accidentally killing the ICE agent, Thomas Sherman, but you couldn't make an omelette without breaking a few legs. Still, her being caught harbouring him when she should have made sure he left the country was probably not the smartest of choices. Yet it had been handled and the case had been closed without Michael's involvement being discovered, until Tony couldn't let sleeping dogs snooze.

Eli was furious, already arguing that she hadn't handled her team effectively and that she'd let DiNozzo kill a highly valued Mossad officer. He'd also hinted rather blatantly that she should volunteer to take Michael's place on the mission to take down Saleem Ulman in Somalia, to prove that her loyalty was to her father and Mossad not NCIS. Ziva knew that Eli was bringing every trick to bear, trying to force her to take the mission that was supposed to be undertaken by his prized Kidon operative. Her father was a master of manipulation, especially when it came to his eldest daughter.

Under normal circumstances she would have acquiesced to her father's implicit order to take on Michael's mission without question. Yet upon hearing him admit to an oh-so-smug DiNozzo when by some fluke he had tricked her Abba during the interrogation, into admitting that he ordered Michael to sleep with her because he didn't trust her, she refused to volunteer. It would take a direct order from her father to force her, and fortunately for her, Abba hadn't made it a direct order… not yet anyway. He was so sure that she would do what he wanted, and she saw his face when she followed Gibbs on the plane when he'd been expecting her to stay in Israel. Yet she could still be pulled back to Mossad at a moment's notice, so she needed to gain back the trust she had achieved at NCIS, making it more difficult for her father to justify recalling her.

For that to happen, she needed DiNozzo to get thrown off the team. She didn't trust him after he killed Michael, but also because without him on the team, she was certain she could make everyone trust her again.

~ An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~

Gibbs was sitting in his basement trying to lose himself in a bottle of bourbon as he came to terms with the fact that Ziva had lied to them. Oh, sure, he had known before getting on the transport to Tel Aviv that she had deceived them about her relationship with Officer Michael Rivkin. He'd tried to ignore the consequences it had for the death of a federal agent and two terrorists by protecting Rivkin, because he could tell how much she was hurting over his death and he couldn't bear to see her suffering. When the revelations that she had been passing confidential information to Mossad came through while they were in Israel, he still hadn't confronted her, even though it cut him to the quick. Gibbs was certain if he showed her he had her six she would confess what she had done.

After all, she had earned his trust when she'd saved his life, and when he gave his trust it was for life, since he didn't give it to just anyone or easily, if it came down to it. Semper Fi wasn't just some trite phrase; he lived and breathed it with his whole being. So, despite the fact that she had betrayed his trust and his renowned gut had somehow led him astray, which was incredibly galling for the former Marine who prided himself on his ability have the measure of those around him, he waited. Waited and hoped that she would come to him, ready to finally be honest with him about what she had done. And now he wondered if he would have to make the first move, since she hadn't turned up as he'd expected.

And where did it leave him now, apart from conflicted? Questioning himself and his abilities in his basement, and that was always a painful process, particularly for Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Especially since Ziva had become a surrogate daughter to him, since she chose him over her own flesh and blood and killed her half-brother to save his life, in this very basement. So many pivotal events had taken place in his basement; it was where he came to de-stress, sleep and find solace when his soul was troubled. When he needed to untangle the facts of a case, this was where he retreated to puzzle it out.

Since his girls left him, the basement had become the epicentre of his home, so it seemed absolutely fitting that he finally heard his front door open and close as Ziva finally made her way through his house and would inevitably find her way down here so they could have that inescapably awkward discussion about the events of the last few days. Hopefully, Ziva would be able to give him a valid reason for her lies and deception that threatened their relationship. Gibbs was sure Ziva was now ready to take the first step in repairing their fractured father-daughter bond, and he was relieved.

As he waited for her to descend the stairs, he tried to ignore the memory of the SecNav here in the basement, expressing his distrust and doubt that Ziva should be working at NCIS. That was a conversation that had taken place literally days before. Had it really been such a short time ago? So much had happened in those few days, and he tried really hard not to think that perhaps she had managed to fool him successfully for the last three plus years. There must be a reasonable explanation, yet he had been taken in by that whole situation with Langer and Lee, too. Where the Hell was his famous gut then?

Hearing her footfalls on the stairs, which weren't as stealthy as normal, he spoke without turning around, "Why are you here, Ziver? I thought you'd be sleeping by now."

"I cannot sleep, Gibbs." The Israeli reached the bottom stair and crossed the floor to stand close to him for a moment before her anxiety and rage prompted her to start pacing.

He could see her looking at him bemusedly and he realised that although he had used his special nickname for her, he had been brusquer with her than he normally would be. He knew that she had had a bad couple of days, what with the death of Michael and the discovery of her father's deceit and mistrust. It had to have destroyed her, but damn it, she owed him an apology, and he knew that he needed to ask her some very hard questions.

Yes, damn it, not just an explanation, not simply a justification, he wanted, no, he needed an apology! It wasn't hypocritical of him to want her to say that she was sorry. It wasn't a sign of weakness when it was offered between friends and family, and he wanted to think that they were both. Moreover, there were some transgressions that were too damned huge to simply overlook, and lying to him was something he could not easily forget or forgive, although for Ziva he was willing to try.

But he wanted, no, needed her to make the first move, since she was the one who had deceived him. And yet with her here with him in his safe place, he could see the pain and suffering etched on her face and her exhaustion, and he could feel his heart start soften in spite of his hurt and anger. So, knowing what he needed before he could move on, he deliberately hardened his heart and he waited.

Jethro knew only too well what it is like to lose the one you love, even if he wasn't sure that Ziva had really loved Rivkin in the truest sense of the word, and definitely not in the way that Gibbs loved Shannon. She had been his soul mate and the mother of his child, while Ziva had known Michael since they were children and were colleagues, which made for a close knit bond, special in its own way. Then to find out that the louse was sleeping with her on orders, well, it made him want to kill the bastard for hurting her, and he wished he'd hurt him when he had the opportunity in LA. He also really wished he could rip out her father's entrails; that man didn't deserve to be a father. He would never have done to Kelly what Eli David had done to his precious daughter.

But he needed her to come clean with him about what she had been up to so he could begin to rebuild his trust in her. She owed him some honesty, so as much as it hurt him, he waited. The father in him wanted to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay and chase away her demons. His stubborn, wounded male pride resisted, challenging the part of him that had been Kelly's dad and would always want to chase away the monsters for his pseudo-daughters, Ziva and Abby, and dry their tears, since he couldn't bear to see them cry.

Willing her to speak and confess that she had been lying to him, he watched as she paced, and his gut clenched tight. Finally, after watching her pace with hatred burning fiercely in her eyes, she made eye contact with him and spoke the words he was longing to hear from her. "We need to talk, Gibbs." Seeing her struggling to begin, he gave her an encouraging half smile.

Finally, she seemed to marshal her thoughts. "I think it is best if I simply speak from the heart," she began, and his heart swelled with a combination of love and relief. He had deliberately not asked her to explain herself so far, and when she began to give him a defiant explanation in the bull pen when he came back from her blown-up building, he'd shushed her. Partly because he didn't want a half-baked apology or lame excuse why she had lied to him. Not when she was so damned angry, knowing it would be neither heartfelt nor truthful, and partly because her home had been ripped out from underneath her and his heart broke for his kid.

Looking at her with all the love and understanding he could summon, he replied, "Well, yes, it usually is." He steeled himself for her confession about her lies that she had told them about Michael, about her knowledge that Rivkin had been responsible for Agent Sherman's death. To admit to him he had switched the terrorist's computer and disclose that she shared confidential NCIS data with Rivkin as one of his informants. All of these things demanded that she explain herself and he was pleased that she decided not put it off any longer. So, he was completely unprepared for what came next.

"It's Tony, I am still not convinced that he been entirely truthful about Michael's… Rivkin's shooting." She said.

Feeling shocked and disappointed, he stared at his liaison officer sternly before responding. "He gave his word."

His unspoken message was clear, _'DiNozzo doesn't lie_,' and he was biting his damned tongue trying not to say that she of all people was in no position to be questioning anyone's integrity, especially Tony's.

"I am not sure that we can work together. Perhaps it would be better if one of us gets transferred to another team," she stated carefully and dispassionately, but there was something tightly tamped down about her under the surface that made his gut ache.

"Transferred?" Gibbs repeated, hoping that Ziva wasn't asking him what he thought she was. After all this time, surely she knew him better than to try to back him into a corner, to issue him with an ultimatum? He understood that she was distraught over Michael's betrayal and death and her father's manipulations, but after all, Michael Rivkin had been ordered to sleep with her.

How could she still have feelings for him knowing that he had been using her and spying on her? It wasn't as if Ziva wouldn't understand how it worked, since she had admitted to sleeping with people to gain an advantage on a case, and has even been trained in how to do it successfully. Why was she being so irrational about DiNozzo?

Ziva stared at him intently before looking over at the spot where Ari had been standing as he prepared to shoot Gibbs four years ago. The same spot where she had shot him down like a rabid dog and Gibbs had learned that Ari was her half-brother. "I need to be able to trust the people that I work with. I know that **you** more than anyone understands **that**."

Damn it, she wasn't just giving him an ultimatum, but she was trying to force his hand by reminding him that he owed her his life. If only she had come to him and admitted that she had been deceiving them; that she had lied to him and to DiNozzo about Rivkin. If she'd just confessed that she had protected Michael and failed to speak up about his responsibility in the death of the federal agent, maybe he could have overlooked it. Instead she'd let them chase their tails through the whole investigation where another ICE agent was almost blamed for Sherman's death, which was inexcusable. If she had confessed she had been feeding Rivkin details of NCIS investigations and explained that she didn't feel comfortable working with DiNozzo, it might have been a different story.

If she had simply _'asked_' for his help, he might have reacted differently. After all, if he wasn't such a selfish bastard he probably should have encouraged Tony to accept a promotion several years ago, since he was more than ready and qualified, but he didn't trust anyone else to have his six like he did with DiNozzo, not even Ziva.

On balance, Ducky's observations before their trip to Tel Aviv when he was struggling to deal with her disloyalty, that to spilt her loyalty between Gibbs and her father, between her country and theirs, must be a difficult, almost impossible situation. And he was well aware that he and Eli were engaging in a pissing contest over a bone and its name was Ziva. But as much as Gibbs acknowledged how very much he owed to Ziva, he was an alpha male down to his bootstraps.

If someone told him he had to do something, he damn well did the opposite, just to prove that no one forced Leroy Jethro Gibbs to do anything that he didn't want to. For a subordinate to try and force his hand, meant that he had no choice but slap her down and slap her down hard. He could only hope that she would come to her senses and come back grovelling and ready to explain her behaviour and convince him he could trust her again.

He stared at her steadily before leaning across and kissing her left cheek once, knowing that this was going to hurt him almost as much as it hurt her.

"As you wish, Officer David! I'll talk to Director Vance tomorrow about getting you transferred to another team ASAP. Go home, Ziva, and take care of yourself."

Gibbs forced himself to ignore the pain, disbelief and anger that he saw mirrored in her eyes before he turned his back on her and walked away. Ignoring her and the maelstrom of emotions he could feel radiating off her even without looking, he picked up a set of blueprints for a new boat. Examining them in minute detail, he snubbed her, unable to trust himself to say any more to her without either throttling her or hugging the shit out her. He was trying not to think about the fact that Ziva would see his rejection as another betrayal by a man in her life. Hell, she predicted he would betray her, too, after she beat up Officer Hadar for blowing up her apartment.

Finally, after more than five minutes she was still there, waiting for his resolve to weaken, but in the end it was Ziva who cracked. Her voice quavering even as she tried to control her emotions, as she tried to regain the upper hand. "Please, Gibbs, you are more of a father to me than Eli, do not betray me, too. I saved your life. I chose you over my own flesh and blood. Do not turn your back on me, I am pleading to you."

"Go home, Ziva," he growled without turning around. "Director Vance will be in touch." Trying to ignore the almost silent sobs as Ziva made her way across the basement and up the stairs, he waited until he was sure she was gone before he picked up the half full bottle of Jack Daniels and threw it, wishing it was Eli David that was being hurled against the wall and shattering into hundreds of pieces.

God damn the man, he didn't deserve to have children, and Gibbs was worried that he'd just pushed Ziva back into the bastard's arms when she forced his hand. He couldn't protect her from Eli David if she decided to return to Israel. He felt as if she had broken his heart.

~ An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~

Ziva wasn't sure where she was going; she only knew she had to get away from the scene of her latest failure. She had failed in her bid to regain what she had lost after Tony had destroyed the carefully constructed world she had built in America. And because of that jack-mule, she would probably have to go back to Israel since no one trusted her anymore, not even Gibbs, as evidenced by him choosing DiNozzo over her. How could he choose that joke of an agent over her when she had saved his life and killed her own brother to do it? He owed her everything. Tears of rage leaked from her eyes even as she violently swept them away.

Unable to see the irony that even as a highly trained Mossad operative, she was not immune to the same weaknesses that she had berated her partner for in the men's toilet after the CIA had blown Anthony DiNozzo's undercover mission with Jeanne Benoit. She, too, had begun to believe in her own cover story that Gibbs really was her surrogate father instead of her father's mark, and as she drove away from Alexandria and Gibbs' basement in her typically erratic fashion, she was not even aware of what she was doing. Ziva was on autopilot!

The truth was that she had thrown the dice, so certain she would win and that Gibbs would choose her, and now she had lost out, spectacularly. She was off Gibbs' team, and when her father heard about her latest failure, he would order her home for sure. Once more, Ziva found herself as second best, and this knowledge fuelled her fury.

Her father had always chosen Mossad, Israel and his intelligence work over his family, his wife and over his daughters. Her half-brother, Ari, had chosen hatred of their father and vengeance for his mother and her people over his love and loyalty to her, damn him. Then Michael had chosen allegiance to her father over his childhood friendship with her, and DiNozzo? He was too afraid of losing Gibbs' approval to acknowledge his real feelings for her and tell their boss to nail his ridiculous rule #12. But the one man that she had been absolutely sure would take her side tonight had picked DiNozzo over her, and now everything she had achieved was lost. And Tony DiNozzo was to blame for it all because of his jealousy and inability to mind his own damned business!

She wondered if Gibbs had talked to Director Vance yet and if her father already knew. If so, she would very soon be getting a call from Eli recalling her to Israel, and she thought about what her life would be like. She would have to complete Michael's mission to find the terrorist training camp in the Horn of Africa, if the intelligence pulled from the terrorist's laptop was to be believed, and she would be forced to become an assassin again. She didn't want to go back, she liked living here and all the simple freedoms that these Americans took so much for granted. Maybe, though, she reasoned, all wasn't completely lost and she could still rescue the situation. If the one common denominator in this mess wasn't around anymore, then things would go back to normal and Gibbs would fight for her to stay in the US and on his team.

Anyone with eyes in their face could see the out and out animosity between her father and Gibbs. One thing she knew, when Gibbs was challenged he would fight to protect her, she just knew it. Perhaps it had been foolish to try and twist his hand, but she had been desperate and she panicked. Now it was time to make things right; to finish what she had started back in Tel Aviv. It was time to visit one of the safe houses that she'd kept from back when she had been handling Ari, to collect some equipment she had stored there. She needed some things that would not be traced back to her.

As Ziva drove to the storage locker she'd continued to pay for in cash since her days as Ari's handler so there'd be no connection to her or Mossad, she was planning her moves carefully. This needed to look like a home invasion and she had to leave enough clues to make sure that she was in the clear, since she would probably be considered a suspect. That was why she needed weapons that could be easily traced back to local gangs and drugs dealers. And she also needed to borrow a car because her own Mini Cooper was too distinctive.

As she finished making plans for yet another hit, her thoughts returned to her half-brother, which wasn't all that surprising, really, since this place was irrevocably linked to her memories of Ari. But it was a topic that she'd tried very hard not to think about since he died at her hand. Her father was pleased that she had followed his orders and eradicated his 'problem' that was highly damaging to his position. It it had also given her the opportunity to ingratiate herself with Gibbs and worm her way into NCIS, just as Eli had decreed. Not that she'd ever really understood the purpose of Mossad wanting her embedded in such a minor intelligence agency. In fact, it seemed an odd way to way to treat an ally, but then her father never appreciated anyone questioning his actions.

Yet she hadn't killed her brother because he was a traitor to Mossad and Israel or because of her father's orders or even because he was threatening Gibbs, who at that moment in time was an arrogant, annoying stranger. If she was completely honest with herself, she had killed him because she was overcome by a murderous rage. At the moment in time she reacted because he had betrayed her, deceived her, his sister who loved him fiercely. She had defended him to her father and to NCIS, adamant that Ari was not a traitor. Ziva, who had been taken and moulded into a super assassin at an unforgivably early age, had become accustomed to being a super-spy savant who was never wrong. Unable to deal with the fact that her own brother had betrayed her, had comprehensively fooled her and made her look like a joke, she had killed him a blind overwhelming rage.

Yet as that old saying went, if you act quickly, you apologise in laziness, and that was true in this case, too. That was mostly why Ziva tried not to think about her brother, that and the hateful things that had spewed out of his mouth about their father. Mainly because if she spent too long thinking about it, she might have reached the same conclusion that he had valid cause to hate their father. But even more disturbing was the thought that if she had even stopped to consider the possibility that Ari was a rogue agent, she could have set up a trap where she apprehended him. Instead, she ended up having to shoot him down like some rabid dog.

She had been so sure that Ari was loyal to Israel that she never even entertained the possibility that he might be guilty of the charges levelled against him. In the end, she had no choice but to do what she did, even if she would relive it over and over again as long as she lived. That was, whenever she allowed herself the luxury of thinking about what had gone on down in Gibbs' basement. But it was pointless to think of what if.

Sure, killing Ari was what her father had demanded and what NCIS felt was fitting punishment for the death of one of their own, and they hadn't lost any sleep over his demise. But he was her brother and she loved him, and killing him stole a huge chunk of her humanity, and she ended up pretty much hating the world because of it, including herself. And now because of DiNozzo, she was reliving that nightmare that she had worked so hard to lock down tight in that place where she banished all her demons. She should have killed him back in Tel Aviv when she had the chance. It was long past time to correct that situation.

~ An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~

By the time Ziva found herself outside of Anthony DiNozzo's apartment building, she was driving a customised hotted up car that belonged to one of the local ganghangers. She had hotwired it, knowing that people would remember the car rather than the driver, if any witnesses were around at that time of the morning. Dressed all in black BDUs and a ski mask in her pocket for her to don when she was inside the building, she checked to make sure she had the weapons collected from her storage locker.

She had several knives and a gun – a .38 special that she had taken from a young pair of skunks last year that thought she was an easy target for a mugging. They had gotten a nasty little surprise and she had some untraceable weapons that along with some trace amounts of cocaine that she had made sure to coat the knives and gun with, would further throw off the police when she left behind the murder weapon at the scene. She preferred to use a knife to do the job if possible because it was silent and gave her more time to flee the scene, but even if Tony was not an exceptional agent, he was still trained and it would be foolish not to take him seriously, hence the gun.

Ziva was cursing the fact that she'd never been inside DiNozzo's apartment, which meant she was effectively going in blind which was not optimal, but it could not be helped. She wondered why she'd never been invited to his place since he was always ready to share so many inappropriate details of his life, so she thought it was odd. Hopefully, he would be asleep and not watching his mindless collection of movies in the living area since it would be much more difficult to sneak in. But that said, she was Mossad trained and of course it was doable.

It appeared that he was sleeping since all the lights were out in his apartment that she could see from the street. Actually, there were no lights on anywhere in the building, but at 0322 hours, she wasn't all that surprised. Stopping to make sure she cut the power to the entire building, she pulled on her ski mask avoiding any security cameras as she made her was to the entrance and moved into the stairwell. Climbing the three flights of stairs using a small pen shaped flashlight to light the way, she moved with the stealth that Tony always described as her 'Ninja moves'.

Exiting the stairwell, she crept along the hallway to his front door. Pulling out her lock picks, she set to work on opening the door, working as quickly and quietly as possible. When she felt the lock give, she clicked off the penlight and pushed open the door a fraction to listen and make sure no one was moving around inside. Pushing open the door silently and slipping inside, she switched to a tiny flashlight similar to ones on a key ring to check that Tony hadn't fallen asleep on the sofa, before once again using the pen light to find her way around the apartment.

Moving up the hallway toward what must be the bedrooms and the bathroom, she didn't notice the trail of clothes on the floor which Tony had shed on his way to his bed because he had entered his home too exhausted to place them in the clothes hamper, and had been feeling utterly grimy from being in the one set of clothes the whole time they were in Israel. He had simply shed them on his way to the bathroom. Although Ziva silently cursed the slight rustle that ensued when she stumbled over his shirt and trousers, she was confident that it wouldn't be enough to wake him up. Since he was injured from his fight with Michael, he'd probably taken some pain killers the moment he got home anyway.

Bracing herself as a part of her screamed out that this was wrong and not to do it, she deliberately imagined Michael lying on the floor of her apartment with four rounds from Tony's gun piercing his body and his life blood pouring out of him as she held him, begging him not to die. She pictured them in bed together, and also the many hours they'd spent with each other as children, the dreidel game they played at Hanukkah and endless games of hide-and-go-seek in the olive groves. Then with the rage burning bright again, she hardened her heart. She also remembered that Gibbs had chosen DiNozzo over her and that she would soon be off home to become her father's dutiful assassin again. Taking a deep breath she opened the door, prepared to use the ganghanger's knife, only to see gleaming porcelain, and so moved on to the next door.

Finding her heart rate elevated way more than it had been in the past when she had engaged in her occupation as a sanctioned Mossad killer, she dimly realised that it was because she was conflicted about what she was about to do, which was not something that she had experienced in the past, nor was it something one wanted just before a kill. Ignoring that feeble voice inside her head telling her it was wrong and focusing on Tony shooting her friend and lover instead, she opened the door next to the bathroom smoothly, she saw the bed, and instead of calmly assessing the situation, she reacted blindly, which was utterly out of character for the Mossad killer.

Throwing the heavy and badly weighted knife, she aimed just below the pillow that she had subconsciously noted before throwing the weapon. She was confident that it would pierce her target's cardiac muscle, resulting in a quick death, unlike what he inflicted on Michael. Almost instantly, Ziva realised by the sound it made as it found it's mark, that it hadn't hit flesh and bone. She'd failed! Using her penlight, she quickly ascertained that the bed was empty, but her spidey-sense told her that DiNozzo was definitely somewhere in the room.

Adopting a firing stance with the .38 special at the ready, she used the flashlight to search the room rapidly, spying someone lying on the floor on the left side of the bed. Almost automatically, she realised that he was also aiming a gun at her and any hesitation that she may have felt disappeared as self- preservation kicked conscious thought to the kerb. Ziva fired off a volley of shots, even as he let go three shots in rapid succession. Time seemed to freeze as a random thought popped into her head that perhaps she should have thought about this a bit more thoroughly before she executed this particular kill.

Endnotes:

Someone suggested that I should list all the Ziva-isms and their translation at the end of the chapter and I thought that was a good idea so here it is:

rolling around the haystack/a roll in the hay, truth be bold/truth be told, the obese felines/fat cats, to nut off/to bolt off, screwed down /screwed up, crimson flag/red flag, going mailman/ going postal, bingos/bimbos, friends with beneficials/friends with benefits, froze her up/froze her out, hoodblinked/hoodwinked, fallen head over soles/fallen head over heels, kick in the mouth/ kick in the teeth, apple-shaped/pear shaped, put the shoe in /put the boot in, to go poking his eyes in her business/ to go poking his nose in her business, the pot blackening the kettle's reputation/ the pot calling the kettle black, like an emu with his head in the sand/ like an ostrich with his head in the sand, you couldn't make an omelette without breaking a few legs/ you couldn't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, let sleeping dogs snooze/ let sleeping dogs lie, jack-mule/ jack-ass, to nail his ridiculous rule #12/ to screw his ridiculous rule # 12, eyes in their face/ eyes in their head, if you act quickly, you apologise in laziness/ act in haste repent in leisure, ganghangers/ gangbangers, skunks/ punks.


	4. Chapter 4

Beta: This story has benefited greatly by the awesome beta-skills and input of Arress and I want to extend huge thanks to her for all her assistance. And you all know the drill... any boo-boos are my bad :)

A/N Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted or faved this story. I appreciate your support and hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Just to clarify, in this story Jimmy takes on the role of narrator and is written in 1st person while everyone else is written in 3rd person pov.

Well hopefully it's been worth the wait as the cliffhanger is finally revealed. Thanks to those people who have waited so patiently to find out who died :) I hope you enjoy this chapter.

An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind

Chapter 4

Jimmy Palmer:

Standing in the ER Trauma Room 1, I stared sadly at the devastated mother who was cradling her teenage son's body begging him to wake up as his unseeing eyes stared back at her. The young man, more of a kid really, had ended up committing death by cop after they'd tried to arrest him for selling drugs near an elementary school. It had been a particularly bad shift with an MVA with fatalities, one of which had been a toddler, always especially tough, the usual assortment of strokes, infarcts and drug overdoses, but then to top it off there'd been a suicide by cop. Frankly, there was not much that we could do; the idiot was still alive when the EMTs unloaded him, but he'd bled out before we had time to do anything.

I'd already been on duty for over 24 hours and was dead on my feet. As it was quiet for now, I decided to sack out in the doctors on-call room and hope for once I'd get a decent nap. Tony had taught me the power of napping years ago and I was finding that trick invaluable now as I battled my way through my residency in the ER. It wasn't the blood, gore, suffering or the medical procedures and studying that I struggled with, it was the exhaustion and holding people's lives in my hands when I was dropping with fatigue.

I smiled thinking of my friend Tony; there wasn't a day that my thoughts didn't wander to him since I missed him so damned much. Of course, today had been an especially bad day for recalling the less pleasant memories that I had of Tony because of one as the unis that accompanied the young drug dealer. I'd seen the pain in his face at having been forced to kill the kid in self-defence. I've seen similar pain in my friend's eyes on way too many occasions, and I just knew that in the six years he'd served as a cop he'd seen a bucket-load of ugliness and suffering. The problem was that he'd always taken everything to heart and ended up blaming himself for everything. As the child of two alcoholic parents, he'd learnt early on that he had to be the parent in the family and took on responsibilities that he wasn't developmentally ready for.

Of course, there is no way on earth that a small child could be responsible for his mother and father, since to live with alcoholics is to live in chaos. And sadly it was almost inevitable that when his mother died when he was the ripe old age of eight, Tony was going to feel like he had failed her. It didn't matter if she was an abusive mother who was too ill to see to his most basic of physical or emotional needs. Then there was his alcoholic father who was a self -absorbed conman with a quick temper, a man who was at the very least emotionally abusive, but probably physically, too. Tony always denied being hit by his dad, but children of alcoholics grow up as accomplished liars. Hiding how bad everything from outsiders is a common denominator with these kids; it is as natural as breathing for them and equally as necessary for them to cope, so I never put much store by his denials.

What it did do, though, was to affect him deeply at a critical time in his development. It made him feel that it was his responsibility to look after everyone, and his mother's death also affected him profoundly. I'm not sure if it was more abusive crap from his father telling him it was his fault that his mother died or if it was just the internal dialogue that children tend to engage in naturally, combined with his perception that he was responsibility for his parents' welfare, but he blamed himself for her death. Not such a shock that he would as a college student go racing into a burning building to try and save strangers, but it does seem that fate was cruel to the young Tony to force him of all people have to live with the tragedy of not being able to save that little girl. Becoming a cop is just another example of his need to protect not only the people he cared about but perfect strangers, and what a way to set yourself up for heartache.

I've spent countless hours trying to understand why even when he was given the chance to have his own team, Tony continued to let his team mates heap so much abuse on him. I finally concluded after completing a rotation on the psychiatry wing and a lot of prescribed reading that he thought that the abuse was SOP. Having grown up with not one but two alcoholic parents, he only knew dysfunctional patterns of interpersonal relationships, but like so many kids whose parents had substance abuse issues, he was a master of dissembling. Taught that outside help was to be avoided at all cost, he was adept at covering up his pain, and while Tony was incredibly adroit at dealing with superficial social situations like which fork to use with each course of food and how to charm his father's business associates, he was utterly clueless about intimate personal relationships.

In fact, the first time he probably had a real opportunity to see normal relationships between individuals would have been when he arrived at college and was willingly accepted into the two subgroups of his sports teams and his frat brothers. The problem was, though, that most of his new team mates or frat brothers had all come from an average family background where they learnt what was normal behaviour for individuals in a close knit family group. Now, although banding together into subgroups, they were also trying to finish the individuation process that heralded the onset of adulthood, and so Tony had a rather skewed view of appropriate ways for friends/family to relate to one another.

It had often been observed by others that Gibbs had assembled a bunch of individuals with daddy issues, himself included, but Tony had much more than just daddy issues. The other team members had strong maternal figures during their formative years and all of them had siblings who provided a buffer against their daddy issues and served as an important socialising role. It helped Abby, Ziva, McGee and dare I say even Gibbs to experience relatively happy, normal childhoods in spite of their individual deficiencies.

Sure, they each had their own individual challenges, like Abby who had to straddle both the deaf and hearing communities, and no doubt she probably felt like a fish out of water, never fitting in properly in either world. Ziva felt trapped by her father's expectations that she had to follow in his footsteps and become a super spy/assassin, and McGee felt that he couldn't live up to his alpha father's paternal expectations. Yet none of them ever questioned being loved and cherished members of their family, either. The contrast between them and Tony couldn't be greater. For example, Admiral McGee bought his only son a car, and a pretty nice one, for his 16th birthday, while Tony's experience of paternal love was that for his 12th birthday he was disowned and banished to military school.

So, while Tim had a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas about being bullied and not being able to live up to the expectations of a domineering father, he still had the love and support of his mother, sister and his paternal grandmother to help him succeed. Ziva similarly, although having a sociopath for a father who might have been difficult if not impossible to please, still had a loving sister and a half-brother, mother, aunt and uncle, not to mention numerous cousins to help buffer the effects of having Eli as a father. Gibbs might have clashed with his old man, but he had a nurturing mother to instil in him his worth. So, I cannot excuse the way that all the team went after Tony to inflict pain upon him that sometimes bordered on extreme abusiveness since each of them had received loving socialisation within functioning family systems. The problem with Tony in having no such socialisation to draw upon was that when the team frequently wounded him, he truly believed it was simply par for the course for family to hurt him, and he undoubtedly rationalised that he deserved what he got.

So, while any normal person would have headed for the hills long ago, Tony probably thought that all the taunts and insults were part and parcel of being in a family. Hard for someone like me to grasp since my mom was so loving, but his own experiences had been of a neurotic mother dressing him up to be ridiculed by other kids and a father that conditioned him to believe he would end up in the gutter because he was so useless. (Yeah, okay, maybe I can see why he stood there and took everyone's crap.)

If you also factor in his abandonment fears, I guess it meant that he couldn't/wouldn't leave the team behind that he mistakenly thought of as family because he thought that it meant he was abandoning them. In his cognitive process it probably equated to what his father had done when he disowned him, and I know that he vowed to not be like his father. The truth was that Tony had taken semper fi very much to heart and probably observed it even more rigidly than Gibbs did, since he left the team and then came back without considering how it would affect the team. But in his striving to uphold that principle of 'leave no one behind', no one had ever attempted to teach Tony that he was also of equal importance to everyone else, and it was one of many crucial lessons he'd never got a chance to learn as a child.

And that there was the ultimate tragedy, because if Tony had had even a fraction of the normal upbringing of Tim, Ziva, Abby or Agent Gibbs, he'd never have tolerated the appalling treatment he received at their hands. And he wouldn't have found himself attacked by a revenge fuelled assassin when he valiantly tried to protect her from the mess she had gotten herself into. He would have been long gone, perhaps to the FBI or another alphabet agency or perhaps to Rota Spain and his own well deserved team.

So ironic that although he had essentially reared himself, he still had more integrity and loyalty than those people he sought to protect. And because of that inherent flaw, he was left absolutely vulnerable for Jenny Shepard to ride roughshod over him once again. When Shepard decided to clean up a huge crapfest that she'd successfully managed to conceal in her earlier career and decided to clean it up on her own when it returned to bite her on the ass, she ended up making Tony pay a terrible price for her hubris. She placed him in an untenable position when she ordered that he and Ziva stand down from their protection detail guarding her during her visit to LA to attend a funeral. She deliberately withheld information that she was in danger from them and went off on her own. Dr. Mallard felt that her last actions were prompted by her trying to make amends for her earlier failures and was trying to protect Special Agent Gibbs, but I'm not so charitable, I'm afraid.

I think that she was trying to look out for her own reputation and clean up the mess she'd created because she hoped that no one would find out how badly she messed up. Maybe she deluded herself into thinking she did it for Gibbs, but in the end she did it to make herself feel better. Her actions were incredibly selfish and she threw my friend under the bus when she decided to 'commit suicide by dirtbag'. And when you think just how incredibly hypocritical that was because her own father's suicide had destroyed her life, she was the last person who should have forced Tony to live with that horrible burden. Yet clearly she didn't care that she was sentencing him to a lifetime of guilt and regrets as he second guessed why he didn't ignore her direct orders and refuse to stand down.

The problem was that he'd been torn between following his instinct that said that something was wrong and his desire not to be caught up in anymore of her personal vendettas. The fact that he'd been badly burned by her a few months before was what ultimately made him follow her orders and stand down, and was then sentenced to a life-long legacy of regrets. It probably wouldn't have hurt so much if he hated her, but he still continued to care about her even though she had deceived him. While he was furious with her for hurting Jeanne for petty reasons of revenge, Jenny had befriended him when he was alone and adrift. She had made him feel like he was competent and wanted, which was something he had been striving for ever since he was a child. Jenny was also his handler, and the fact it had been such a secret further cemented their relationship. Although he hated what she'd done, he was far too loyal for his own good, and when she died he couldn't forgive himself.

And of course as much as he blamed himself for her death and the fact he failed to prevent it, Special Agent Gibbs' attitude didn't help him either in processing what had occurred. His mentor's displeasure at arriving at the scene to find it had already been processed against his orders because Leon Vance had taken control of the investigation was palpable. When he finally got around to telling Tony he wasn't responsible, the delay in doing so was enough to convince an already guilt laden SFA that Gibbs, too, blamed him for Shepard's death. It just reinforced his own perception he was to blame for Jenny's selfish desire to protect her reputation and die in a blaze of glory by diving in front of a bullet rather than die in a hospice.

I'm not really sure if his delay in telling Tony he wasn't to blame was due to Gibbs' fury that the scene had been processed in his absence or because he did blame Tony for not protecting Shepard. I suspect that it was probably six of one and half a dozen of the other, but whatever the reason, the delay was enough for Tony to beat himself up even more than he had done already, since Gibbs was his mentor. By the time they returned from LA he was crippled by doubt, and then Vance came along and reinforced the guilt even more by banishing him to sea. The new director effectively ensured that no matter what we said to Tony later, he couldn't accept that he didn't cause Jenny Shepard's violent death.

If she hadn't chosen to hurt so many people, most specifically Tony, and commit suicide by bullet, I would have wished her luck and said '_have at it'_. But she decided once again to do what she wanted and damn the consequences it would have on anyone else, especially the two agents that were tasked with protecting her. Her desire to die what she would have seen as a noble death obviously superseded any responsibility she should have felt to her agency or her agents. As someone who had been so severely affected by the suicide of her dad, she of all people should have been a Hell of a lot more considerate, but she was so affected that she couldn't accept that he topped himself. There were plenty of other less dramatic ways to kill herself that wouldn't have left a permanent festering sore on Tony's psyche.

It left my friend even more incapable of looking out for number one and desperate to save his remaining team mates and 'family', and unfortunately that had included his lying partner. What a shame that care wasn't reciprocated! Woulda… shoulda… coulda. If only…

Flashback:

A devastated and heart-broken Leroy Jethro Gibbs and his counterpart and crony from the FBI, Tobias Fornell, sat watching over the unconscious figure in the bed, recovering from emergency surgery. Sipping on coffee that was strong enough to clean the grease off car engines, Fornell watched his friend as he tried to make sense of what had happened.

"How could this have happened, Tobias? Why did she do it?"

Tobias Fornell had no answer to this question, even if it hadn't been rhetorical, since he didn't think that Jethro would like what he had to say. Instead he had a question for the senior agent.

"Did you know that she attacked DiNutzo in Tel Aviv? Knocked him down and pointed her gun at his chest and his thigh and threatened him?" He saw the shocked expression on Gibbs' face, "So you didn't know?"

"Damn it, Tobias, of course not. Why didn't DiNozzo tell me and how the Hell do you know this? Damn it, if he'd just told me I would have changed how I dealt with her tonight. My God, I pushed her over the edge."

Fornell glowered at Gibbs, knowing that he had been holding out on him and he needed to pin Gibbs down on what he meant by it. But he couldn't resist addressing the issue of why he thought DiNotzo hadn't reporting her. "I don't know why, Jethro, but I do have a couple of theories. First off, I would hazard a guess that he probably thought you already knew. You spend so much time cultivating the fallacy with your team that you are all knowing about everything that goes on with them, you end up cutting off your nose to spite your face because they think that there is no need to tell you when something important happens." Fornell took a breath before he continued.

"The other likely reason that he didn't tell you is that it is obvious to everyone that Ziva and Abby are your surrogate daughters. You favour them and let them get away with things that DiNutzo or McGee would get their asses well and truly kicked for, if not fired. Apart from that, Tony probably knew how hurt you were to find out that Ziva had been lying to you."

Fornell narrowed his eyes as he formed his thoughts. "Then there's explanation C, that he didn't report her to you for exactly the same reason he didn't take back up with him when he found out the terrorist's computer had been used to access the internet at Ziva's apartment. He was stupidly trying to protect her because you taught him that rule #1 superseded everything else. As a cop it was ingrained in him to always have his partner's back, and Tony probably knew that it would destroy the team if he told you. So I don't know… pick one. It really doesn't matter anymore since what's done is done.

Gibbs realised there was some truth in what Fornell was saying, but that didn't mean that he wanted to hear it, or even more importantly, listen to what he wasn't saying. So, instead he responded in the way that was the most predicable, not to mention the most comfortable for the former Marine – with anger.

Scowling fiercely, he growled at his friend, "So how come you know about it, then?"

Tobias shrugged. "Ducky dragged it out of him when he drugged him up to his eyeballs to reset his radius, which David displaced when she attacked him in Israel. He said DiNutzo's arm was in a bad way, but he didn't dare get it attended to in Israel. Told Ducky he felt like he was in danger over there - looks as if he was right."

"How did he manage to hide the displacement all the way back to the US?" Gibbs wondered out loud, but Tobias refrained from answering since he felt like the more pertinent question was how Gibbs had missed it, or even more critical, why Tony felt the need to hide it from his team leader. It was a question he was determined to discover the answer to, and judging by the furious expression on Ducky's face when he relayed Ziva's assault, it hadn't been pleasant.

Still focusing on the here and now, he slipped into interrogator mode. "You said you pushed Ziva over the edge when you saw her tonight. Tell me what happened."

"She came and saw me earlier in the basement. I thought she wanted to talk about lying to me, to apologise and make things right." He stared off into the distance and Fornell needed to prod him to continue.

"So, why did she come to see you, Jethro if not to apologise?"

Gibbs looked like he really didn't want to be having this conversation. "She said that she didn't believe DiNozzo and she couldn't work with someone she didn't trust. She said one of them had to go," he admitted, reluctantly.

"What did you say?" Fornell asked.

Reading between the lines, the Fibbie knew that she had used emotional blackmail to try and have DiNutzo thrown off the team. It was blatant to everyone that knew them that Ziva was treated like a favourite daughter, and he'd never been able to get Jethro to explain why he trusted her so implicitly, but Tobias knew how he was when it came to Abby and Ziva. When they pouted, stamped their feet or cried, he was putty in their hands. No doubt, in their pleading eyes Jethro saw echoes of his long dead Kelly and was unable to refuse them. They were his Achilles heel, his soft underbelly and they knew it, too; perhaps not consciously in Abby Sciuto's case, but Ziva had profiled him for her half-brother Ari and Mossad, and she definitely knew how to play him. So, he was surprised that in this instance she had overplayed her hand so spectacularly.

"You know I couldn't let a subordinate force my hand, Tobias. She gave me no choice. I told her I'd have her reassigned ASAP."

"And if she had given you a choice?" he asked looking at the figure in the bed.

Gibbs was silent, but he finally answered grudgingly. "I would have probably agreed to her request."

Fornell was shocked. He could never understand how Gibbs could trust Eli David's daughter's loyalty so completely when she owed her allegiance to her father and Mossad. As Ari's handler who had prepared the dossiers on Gibbs' team, which allowed her brother to target Gibbs and Special Agent Caitlyn Todd as the most effective way to psych out Jethro, along with her stubborn refusal to consider that he was rogue, Ziva had contributed to Todd's death. Yet, she had never seemed to be held accountable for at the very least, not doing her job effectively. He'd even heard some creditable rumours that Deputy Director David had told his daughter that Haswari was dirty and she'd ignored the Intel.

Now it turned out that once again she had covered up for an out-of-control Mossad operative, one that killed ICE Agent Sherman. Shades of the past repeating itself at the very least here, Tobias thought. Gibbs had given DiNutzo a heap of shit for keeping the fact that he was working undercover for the Director from him and the team because it was a need to know mission and he'd been ordered not to tell his superior. Yet Gibbs was prepared to overlook Ziva's lies and deception? Definitely a double standard going on there, in his humble opinion, the fed decided bemusedly.

Staring at his old friend incredulously, "You said if you'd known about Ziva attacking Tony you'd have done it differently?" He asked, still not able believe what he was hearing. "You would have let her railroad you into forcing DiNutzo off the team when he'd done nothing wrong and she'd been lying to NCIS, to you?" He asked, "Really?"

"I owe Ziva and she's been betrayed by her family and her lover. When I chose Tony over her she would have thought I was betraying her, too, Hell, she even predicted it! Which I guess I did by not choosing her. If I'd known how irrationally she was behaving, then I would have probably overlooked her behaviour."

Tobias thought that given her propensity to threaten people and the fact that she killed a suspect in the NCIS elevator when he wouldn't shut up, perhaps Gibbs shouldn't be so surprised to hear that she tried to kill DiNutzo, or consider it so out of character; all of which he decided to keep to himself at this stage since he was investigating a shooting. Instead he snorted cynically.

"Well, I guess we don't have to search all that hard about her motives for breaking into Tony's apartment. She probably thought that with him dead, she would gain back your approval. How sick is that?"

Gibbs opened his mouth to reply, but his phone (which he'd stubbornly refused to switch off) rang, despite clear directives that cell phones be turned off around medical equipment. He answered it reluctantly after observing who was calling him. Fornell listened and it was clear that Gibbs was not happy. Hanging up with a grunt he stood up. "Vance wants me to go in to help with damage control. I'll talk later." With a final glance at the prone figure in the bed, he left the room.

Fornell watched the still shape for a few more minutes before he decided to get some fresh air while he waited for the patient to regain consciousness. As he exited, he looked to his agent, Jacobs. "Do not let anyone except medical personnel on that list in to see Special Agent DiNozzo. I'll be back."

Meanwhile… inside the room, Tony cautiously opened his eyes and looked around before grimacing in pain. After rolling out of bed on his arm and falling on it, he'd displaced it spectacularly, this time ending up with a compound fracture that needed screws and a plate to repair it. They'd also taken the opportunity while he was anaesthetised to clean and stitch the flesh wound he'd received when one of Ziva's three shots pierced his thigh, and to also set his fractured clavicle. As GSW went, it was a little more serious than a scratch, but it was just a flesh wound, and he'd been lucky that the other two bullets went really wide. It also didn't escape his attention that being shot in the thigh was quite ironic, as less that 24 hour earlier Ziva had threatened to shoot him there at point blank range. Tony was just glad that it was his thigh and not his chest where she would have been aiming; any gun-shot wasn't a whole lotta fun, but chest wounds really sucked, if you even survived them.

Tony knew that life as he knew it had ceased when Ziva made the decision to kill him. How was he supposed to live with what she'd forced him to do? He'd walked away from his corrupt partner instead of turning him in for heaven's sake, so how was he supposed to live with the fact that she hated him so much she tried to kill him? More to the point, how was he supposed to deal with killing her, even if it was in self-defence? It was the second time he'd been put in that situation of killing a fellow professional in the last few days. When he crawled over and kicked away her gun and pulled off the ski mask, he was sure that he was hallucinating or it was a terrible nightmare, but here he was in hospital and Ziva was dead by his gun.

And listening to Gibbs' broken rambling, that was completely out of character for the hard-as-nails Marine, and it was devastating to him. Also hearing that Gibbs had chosen him over their liaison officer simply because Ziva gave him an ultimatum was hurtful. But even apart from that, it was like Jenny's death all over again, except that this time he'd killed Gibbs' precious daughter, not his former lover. Gibbs treated her like a precious jewel and he had shot her, and now the Boss probably hated him almost as much as Tony hated himself. He didn't even want to think about Eli David – he would probably dispatch a posse of Kidon assassins to exact revenge for his daughter.

He briefly considered just making it easy for everybody and putting his gun to his head and beating them all to it, but his gun had been seized as evidence and his back-ups were all in his apartment, and who knew how long it would remain a crime scene. Since it was the crime scene for the death of the daughter of the Mossad Director, he had to figure that he wouldn't be getting in again anytime soon. But as much as a part of him wanted to take the easy way out and stop all the pain, Tony's innate strength of character and strong survival instinct battled against his desire to give up. And that survival instinct had plenty of practice battling against his reckless nature, and he'd ultimately resolved the issue by becoming a cop so he could help others.

Now, Tony knew that his world was shattered, that ultimately Eli David, with the resources of Mossad behind him, would have his revenge, but Tony vowed not to make it easy for him. He would use whatever time he had left helping people who didn't have a voice, and if that cost him his life, then he would have cheated Ziva's father out of his perverse retribution that had created this whole FUBAR in the first place. Of course, that meant that he would have to disappear.

Staying at NCIS would make it too easy for Eli to find him and it would put people that he cared about at risk, since he doubted if a bit of collateral damage would cause the director to lose sleep. Apart from which, he couldn't trust his superiors anymore. And he couldn't deal with Gibbs' devastation over losing Ziva or his own guilt when he had to look into his mentor's eyes every day and know how much he'd destroyed him. Or if he was being honest with himself, to have to daily confront the knowledge that if Gibbs had been forced to make a choice between which one of them should live, that he would choose his surrogate daughter, as difficult as the choice might be.

Once a long time ago, he thought that Gibbs thought of him as family, but then Gibbs got blown up and disappeared to Mexico, and then he returned to take back the position he'd thrust on Tony with a "you'll do" tossed out as almost an afterthought… like you'd toss a dog a bone. And things had fallen apart piece by piece, culminating in Jenny's death when he botched her protection detail. It had been the final nail in the coffin and he should have resigned, and then he wouldn't have to live with the knowledge that he had destroyed the lives of all the people he cared about. Jimmy, Abby and McGee would all be devastated when they knew he'd killed Ziva.

There was no time to waste. He needed to make plans and he needed to lay his past to rest so he could hit the road ASAP. That meant making a statement and getting cleared of a wrongful death so he could head out of DC fast. Although he knew that no matter what IA and the Fibbies said about the shooting, he would always feel responsible for killing her, always wonder if there was something he could have done to prevent it from happening.

Pressing the call button, he waited for his nurse Lana to come in so he could get her to call Fornell so he could make a statement. As he sat up, a wave of nausea overtook him and he decided that he needed to stay put for a bit longer while the anaesthetic worked its way out of his system. But ultimately, he needed to get out of here and stop off at one of his bolt holes that had his emergency _hit the road because someone wants your ass _stash containing fake but professional IDs, guns with permits in corresponding identities and sizeable cash reserves.

Lana came in and smiled to see that Tony was awake and although as she started taking vital signs, she realised that he has reacting to the anaesthetic agent with symptoms of nausea as he started vomiting up a thin stream of bile. The nurse swiftly injected the prescribed anti-nausea meds into his IV port and checked that the fluids and IV antibiotics where running correctly. Checking the colour of his arm and making sure he could wiggle his fingers and had normal feeling, she finished up the examination by checking both incisions for any sign of inflammation. Finally, offering her patient some ice chips, she smiled and asked if there was anything he needed.

"Yeah, could you call Special Agent Fornell and tell him I'd like to talk to him ASAP."

"Sure, Tony, I can do that. Meantime you might want to get some more sleep." She smiled as she exited the room and he closed his eyes to wait, too keyed up to sleep.

~ An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~

Standing in the Major Threat Assessment Centre waiting for a call to be connected to the Director of Mossad, Gibbs and Director Vance waited anxiously, knowing this was going to be a bitch of a conversation. Gibbs was torn between his empathy for the news that Ziva's father was about to hear, and at the same time he was furious at the man for the way he had raised his daughter and treated her as an asset, a commodity, as a trained killer, which had ultimately led to her untimely death. Not to mention the fact that he was trying to deal with his own grief and guilt and his concerns about how this would impact his senior field agent. DiNozzo was going to be hit hard by this!

He glanced at Vance who was chomping through his toothpicks at a rate of knots, no doubt trying to calculate how much harm this was going to cause between the two agencies. Damage control indeed!

One of the techs glanced at the Director, "Director David is standing by, Sir."

Vance took a deep breath, glanced at Gibbs and nodded. "Go ahead, Edwards."

Instantly the pixels arranged themselves into the stern visage of the Mossad Director. "Shalom Leon, Shalom Gibbs," he greeted them, his lip curling perceptively as he greeted Gibbs. "To what do I owe this pleasure since we spoke less than 24 hours ago? Have there been further developments on the terrorist situation?" He asked with a touch of impatient eagerness.

Leon shook his head. "Shalom to you, too, Eli and there's nothing new on the terrorist front. No, I'm afraid I have some bad news, my friend. I'm sorry, I wish there was an easy way to tell you this but Ziva broke into the apartment of Special Agent DiNozzo in the middle of the night after cutting power to the building. She tried to kill him and was shot by DiNozzo in self-defence. I'm so sorry to have to tell you that she is dead, Eli. My sincerest condolences to you and your agency and anything I can do, just ask."

Both men saw a flicker of emotion cross the Mossad Director's face before a stony mask was slipped into place. "Thank you, Leon. I would like to receive copies of all the investigative reports and would appreciate if you permit me to send a representative from Mossad to observe the investigation into her death. I will be contacting the Embassy to organise her return to Israel as quickly as possible. I would appreciate your cooperation, my friend."

Vance nodded, he'd expected no less. "Of course, Eli, I'll do everything that I can to help. I'm sure that it wouldn't be a problem for a representative of Mossad to observe the investigation. I will confer with the FBI Director, but I don't envisage any problems."

Director David frowned, "I do not understand, why is the FBI investigating, Leon. Was not Ziva one of your own?"

"Yes, she was, my friend, but she tried to kill a federal agent and this automatically falls under auspices of the FBI." He explained, trying not to show how angry he was that it had been taken out of their hands.

"Surely, Leon, under the extenuating circumstances, you and SecNav could pull strings and have the investigation transferred back to NCIS. I would prefer that you oversee this one personally. I trust you!"

Director Vance grimaced. "I understand your concern, Director. I am not happy either, but this comes from The Hill I'm afraid. One of the first responders called them in and we've been ordered to cooperate fully but take no active role in the investigation or interfere in the process at all. Because it is who it is, DOD and DOJ are insisting that the process be transparent and impartial. I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do; however, the lead agent, Special Agent Fornell, is a close friend of Gibbs'. So as I say, I'm sure he will understand your need to have a representative observing the process."

Eli was clearly not happy, but nodded grudgingly. "So, can either of you gentlemen tell me what happened that caused my daughter to try to kill the Meatball? She had ample opportunity to kill him while they were here in Tel Aviv. I know for a fact that she had him down on the ground with a gun to his chest and leg, and although she wanted to pull the trigger, she pulled herself back at the last moment. So, what changed in the few hours between landing in DC and her getting shot by a man who has now killed two of my most valuable agents. Why would she try to kill him?"

Gibbs was shocked. A part of him couldn't believe that Ziva would actually have attacked DiNozzo and held a loaded gun on him, whatever her feelings, despite what Tony had told Ducky. He also couldn't believe that knowing her feelings about her partner, her father hadn't done something to prevent this from happening.

"If you knew she was feeling that angry about DiNozzo, why didn't you do something? My God, you could have prevented this." He ground out, angrily.

"I did try, Special Agent Gibbs," he snarled. "I told Ziva not to return to America, that her duty lay at Mossad and she needed to take Michael's place and carry out his mission. She ignored my wishes and got on that damned plane. What would you have me do?"

Leon jumped in before Gibbs could. "Why didn't you give us a heads up on her mental and emotional state, Eli? We might have been able to prevent this tragedy."

The Mossad Director smiled without humour. "Because she had become someone I did not recognise; out of control, emotional and weak. Before she joined your team, Gibbs, she was strong, decisive and she followed my orders. You and America corrupted her, Gibbs, made her weak. I was angry… she was an embarrassment and a loose canon… out of control and dangerous."

"She was your daughter, how could you let her back on the plane without saying something?"

"And she was disrespectful of me as her Director. She was no longer viable as a one of my agents. She made her choice when she picked you over me. She was supposed to win your trust, not become the lie. So, she was of no further use to me. I also did not realise her assassin skills had become so weak either."

Gibbs didn't know what the Hell he was talking about and right now he didn't care. "Damn it, she wasn't an asset. She Was Your Daughter!" He roared.

Eli David leaned forward his expression cold and remote. "Do not presume to judge me, Gibbs. You and I are not so different. We both chose duty to our country before the duty to our families. And now we have to live with those choices."

Gibbs clenched his fists and his jaw so tight he felt like they might shatter. If David had been in the same room and not an ocean away, he would have ripped him apart, limb by limb.

"We are nothing alike, Director, nothing! I would never take my child and make them into a cold blooded killer, an assassin, or order a Kidon operative to sleep with her and deceive her into thinking his feelings for her were genuine. We are nothing alike!" Gibbs spat out at the screen and turned and strode out of MTAC knowing that Vance was going to be pissed, but he wasn't going to stay and listen to such a crock.

~ An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~

Eli David returned to his office and locked the door before falling onto his couch as he allowed his grief to overwhelm him. His daughter, his Ziva, his shining star was dead and she died with her heart full of hate, for him, for Michael, and for that bumbling Agent Meatball. His last remaining offspring was dead and the bumbling Inspector Clouseau was still alive, having survived the attempts by two highly skilled Kidon trained assassins to kill him. It seemed like some dreadful cosmic joke. There was no justice it would seem, but he would soon fix that.

Drying the tears that he had shed, Eli David crossed to his desk and sat down. Picking up the phone he called the US Embassy and began the arrangements to bring Ziva home, and he instructed Officer Hadar to liaise with Director Vance and the FBI Special Agent Tobias Fornell on the investigation into Ziva's death.

Then picking up one of his untraceable burn phones, he called Michael's younger brother, who had failed to qualify in his Kidon training. It wasn't that Samuel Rivkin was incompetent when it came to the technical aspects of being an assassin; he was actually highly skilled. It was that he was psychologically unsound. But for this particular mission, that wouldn't be a handicap; it may well prove beneficial, and Eli explained the mission, urging Samuel to get to DC as soon as he could. With luck, their target would still be vulnerable and helpless in hospital when the hit was carried out. It was a shame that Agent Meatball was estranged from his father and had no close family. He would have relished making him suffer by killing his father before killing him.

Having set in motion his sword of retribution, he turned to the difficult task of informing the family, starting with his sister Nettie, that Ziva was coming home for the final time before working his way through the rest of the David clan. Thinking of the outrage of the self-righteous Leroy Jethro Gibbs, he smiled a cruel coldly cynical smile. He had told him that they were not so different under the skin. Two fathers who had lost their daughters and both of them demanding retribution. The only difference was that as a lowly gunnery sergeant in the Marine Corps, Gibbs was free to disappear off the grid and exact personal vengeance while he as Mossad Director could not simply vanish to indulge his need to have revenge for his Ziva. But just like Gibbs, he would demand his revenge for the death of his last daughter.


	5. Chapter 5

Beta: This story has benefited greatly by the awesome beta-skills and input of Arress and I want to extend huge thanks to her for all her assistance. And you all know the drill... any boo-boos are my bad :)

A/N Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted or faved this story. I appreciate your support and hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Just to clarify, in this story Jimmy takes on the role of narrator and is written in 1st person while everyone else is written in 3rd person pov.

This chapter contains a lot of flashbacks, some within flashbacks so I do hope that you can follow along with the story. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

We are still in the grip of horrific bush fires in Oz and if any of you have any pull with the weather gods we'd really appreciate any and all prays for rain. Our volunteer and professional firefighters are doing an outstanding job but unless we get some rain, we're facing even more devastation. Temperatures are rising and winds are picking up and three of the worst fires are threatening to join forces creating a fire of over 300 kms in length. If that happens all bets are off and the result could be catastrophic.

An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind

Chapter 5

Jimmy Palmer:

I dragged myself out of the car as the sun was heading above the horizon. It had been a hellacious double shift in the ER. It started with a multiple MVA on the motorway and got progressively worse from there. I spent the final hours of my night dealing with a bunch of ravers who had taken some god knows what new designer cocktail drug that made E look tame by comparison. Anyway, whatever the Hell it was, it was a particularly bad-assed batch and all the DC hospitals had been left to pick up the pieces, including ours. I was so exhausted that I knew I would never be able to sleep and I figured that I should probably head out to a yoga class to try to de-stress before I hit the sack to try and sleep. I had another double shift in 24 hours and I needed to catch on more than my usual cat naps.

Of course, it wasn't just the job that was making me feel stretched tight as a drum. In the last few years since Tony had taken off to stay one step ahead Eli David and his obsessive revenge for Ziva's death, even though she was the one who had tried to kill my friend, he had stayed in contact with me. Granted it was the most tenuous of connections still, it had heartened his friends to know that at the very least he was still alive. So, okay, a blank postcard arriving at random intervals suggesting he was crisscrossing the country had to be the weakest of links, since there was no indication who it was from or what he was doing. Even though there was no proof that the cards were being sent by Tony, I just knew that it was Tony's way to let me (well, his friends) know that he was still alive. I knew Tony well enough to know that he would think that contacting the NCIS team or Abby or Ducky would be just too risky, but there were few people who knew just how close we'd become before the Rivkin mess happened.

Still, he was obviously playing super cautious by not even writing on them and as far as I could determine, they never seemed to arrive in any sequential order unless he was bouncing around like a demented grasshopper or had his own personal airplane, which seemed highly unlikely. The last one had been about the World Free Fall Competition held for 10 days in August in Illinios, but I received it in February, so not really a clue there, but I was amused to discover that many of the jumpers chose to do so in the buff. Trust DiNozzo! But while I generally received a postcard at least once a fortnight, it had been six weeks since I'd found a card in the mail and I was beyond antsy and rapidly approaching panicked. And it wasn't just me that was on tenterhook either. Dr. Mallard, Abby, Agent Fornell and McGee were all as worried as I was.

Actually, not true! Abby and McGee were both pissed off and worried because as diligently as they searched for him digitally, trying to track him down, neither of them had managed to score even a hit in nearly 30 months. No one was absolutely sure that it was Tony who was sending me the blank postcards, but everyone was convinced that it was his way of making sure that we didn't worry about him, although it didn't work. How could you not worry about someone like Tony who didn't seem to have a self-preservation gene? Sure, he'd been accustomed to looking out for himself since he was a kid, but he also lived to look after others, and I worried that if he didn't have that as a raison d'être, he would become even more blasé about his own welfare.

I knew that Ducky was beside himself, too, with worry about Tony. Having no word from him for six weeks had the elderly ME desperate, and I know that he constantly second guessed his actions that night that Tony had rung him after he had shot the masked intruder. Of course, many people wondered at the time why Agent Gibbs' loyal Saint Bernard had called Dr. Mallard instead of his superior. Having heard Tony spill his guts to us in Autopsy about his disillusionment about what had gone down in Tel Aviv, I have to admit I wasn't one of those who was surprised that Tony instinctively turned to Ducky. Even though he had been shot and he had made a real dog's breakfast of his shoulder and ended up with a compound fracture of his radius, he'd managed to crawl over and disarm the assassin before he removed the ski mask and discovered the identity of the killer.

I know that any qualms Ducky might have felt about drugging Tony to get the truth out of him about how he had come back from Israel with even more injuries than when he left, dissipated when he got a phone call from a broken senior field agent after he shot his own partner in self-defence. And though he copped the ire of both the director and Gibbs in calling in the FBI and Special Agent Fornell, the subsequent fallout from the investigation vindicated that decision. Fornell made sure that Tony wasn't railroaded for merely defending himself, even if his would be killer was the daughter of the Mossad Director. The problem was that unlike us he wasn't used to dealing with a wounded DiNozzo who routinely tried to escape, so even though his agents had him in protective custody, he apparently had decided that he was a threat to all of us and Fornell and his agents. In typical DiNozzo mode, the idiot decided to sacrifice himself for the good of everyone else by going on the run.

In surrendering control of the investigation to the FBI, we also lost unfettered access to Tony. Although clearly it had been necessary to protect him from the politicking between Mossad, NCIS, SecNav, Eli David and Leon Vance and the I'll wash your back if you wash mine mentality. And as soon as Tony came around from the surgery, he seemed determined to push us all away, but I'm not sure what prompted such a dramatic reaction on his part. With the FBI responsible for his safety, though, it became increasingly difficult to try to talk to him, even though Dr. Mallard and I managed to sneak in on doctors' rounds by calling in professional favours. But he flat out refused to see Abby and McGee and barely talked to Ducky or me either, and Gibbs seemed to have disappeared. The last known sighting of him had been after he came storming out of MTAC after they broke the news of Ziva's death to Director David. According to scuttlebutt, Gibbs had been in a fearsome state, way worse than his usual B for Bastard mode, before stomping off into the sunset. By the time he decided to surface, it was far too late.

Apparently, Agent Gibbs was holed up in his basement getting stinkingly, blind drunk on rotgut otherwise known as bourbon. By the time he in his own vernacular "managed to get his head outta his ass" the damage had been done and there was no going back. Maybe one of us should have gone over there and told him to can the pity party and dried him out and dragged his butt over to the hospital to talk to Tony. But then again, with the way he had been acting, he might have just made things worse, but then who knows how things would have turned out? And now maybe it was too late for any of us to tell him how much he meant to us.

Six weeks was far too long to hear nothing. I was beginning to lose hope and once again I wished that we got a chance of a do over. Woulda…shoulda…coulda. If only…

Flashback:

Special Agent Tobias Fornell, was seething as he headed toward the Naval Yard with a warrant in his pocket to access information into Officer Michael Rivkin's death, and all records pertaining to his activities since he entered the United States. Although that warrant also included records that would allow him to investigate Officer David's conduct and activities, too, and included logs and reports on all relevant NCIS personnel into every aspect of the investigation up to the point when Ziva David was killed in a shootout in Special Agent DiNozzo's apartment. He also had a signed release form from DiNutzo giving him permission to access his own medical file, including the one that was held by his personal physician, Dr. Donald Mallard, Chief Medical Examiner for NCIS.

And it seemed that the inestimable doctor had been a very busy boy. He had marshalled his troops and amassed a file full of forensic evidence detailing DiNutzo's injuries that was truly damning to his agency and superiors. Ducky had somehow also managed to acquire pejorative video evidence of Tony's interrogation at the hands of Director Eli David in Tel Aviv and equally shocking CT footage of Officer Ziva David's assault on her NCIS partner, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, outside Mossad HQ. He wasn't sure exactly how Ducky had managed to get his hands on them, but he assumed that he'd enlisted the considerable skills of Dr. Scuito and Special Agent Timothy McGee, who would have both the skills and motivation to hack into Mossad databases if anyone could.

Then again, Ducky was a wily old bird who had been around the block more than once and had an astonishing array of contacts around the globe. It was entirely conceivable that the ME had his sources within Mossad who had leaked the video evidence to him. Gibbs had obliquely hinted that Ducky may not be the innocuous character that he seemed and Fornell suspected that perhaps at some stage he had been aligned with MI6. Whatever the truth of his suspicions, once the ME had handed over Tony's medical file to the FBI, the reticent agent was now studying it sitting in one of the NCIS conference rooms. Fornell was also studying the video evidence that matched up perfectly with the meticulous evidence of Tony's documented injuries exactly, even down to the first assault between him and Officer Michael Rivkin.

It was both an outstanding job and a damning testament to the butt covering, quid pro quo and politicking that had marred this mess as far back as the ill-fated interagency poker game that resulted in the death of ICE Agent Thomas Sherman. And it wasn't just Ducky's documentation that was first rate either. Thankfully, the ER doctor had had the presence of mind, although no doubt DiNotzo would have encouraged them, to take copious photos of all his injuries and bruises in addition to the radiological and medical records.

He was going to have to buy the good doctor a bottle of single malt when this was all in the bag. Fornell was beyond determined that he was going to make sure that justice was done in this case, because it was doubly personal now, and Ducky had gone a long way to ensure that those who were responsible were going to pay. To that end, Tobias was single-minded in his goal to be all over this lengthy file and everything pertaining to this case before he commenced his interrogations, and he was flying solo at the moment. The problem was, though, that he was constantly getting interrupted by DiNutzo's colleagues, coming in to express their solidarity and support and wanting to know how he was doing.

Right now, the FBI agent was keeping his cards closed to his vest, like Tony. He was unwilling to reveal any unnecessary information since he didn't know who he could trust. And while Tony was sounding extremely paranoid, he could hardly blame him under the circumstances; after all, when your own partner tries to kill you and you've been told by your director that you need to suck it up and take one for the team, who could blame you? Sadly, subsequent events have shown that Tony had good reason to be paranoid.

Deciding to pack it in and take all the evidence he'd collected back to the Hoover building where he might get some privacy, he packed it all into a file box and was about to head off when Abby and McGee knocked and entered the conference room. Both of them looked extremely sleep deprived and shell-shocked. Abby's eyes were red rimmed and she'd obviously been crying. Unsurprisingly, they both wanted to know where Tony was and why he wasn't taking their calls.

"Tony is in protective custody," he explained. _Although for how long he remains is anyone's guess. _He'd already tried to leave once and Fornell had managed to convince him to stay, for now, but he wasn't sanguine that he could continue to persuade the stubborn and broken agent to remain in the safe house they had set up. Tony had already insisted that he take a bedside video statement before they left the hospital today, in case anything happened to him. He'd agreed to stay on proviso that Fornell retrieve and allow him to keep one of the numerous guns that were registered in his name. In his shoes, Fornell would want to be armed so he could protect himself, too, and after this morning, he wasn't going to refuse DiNutzo any reasonable request.

Abby looked at McGee, confused. "Why? OHMYGOD, do you think he's still in danger?" She asked. "But from whom?"

McGee narrowed his eyes then as comprehension hit. "You think Mossad or Ziva's father will try to kill him, don't you?" He asked.

"Yeah, kid, I do." _Not gonna tell them they tried once already._

Abby looked furious. "All the more reason he needs to be with us right now, not strangers. Please, can't we see him, Toby?"

He let the hated contraction of his name go, realising that the pair was distressed. "Look, Abby, I'm not keeping him from making contact, believe me. Much as I agree with you that this is a time when he needs his friends standing by him, supporting him, he's scared that one of you will get caught in the crossfire. He refuses to take that risk, I'm afraid, and there's no changing his mind. I'll pass on any messages you want me to give him, though."

McGee looked obdurate. "I'm a seasoned federal agent. I can take care of myself and help to watch his six. He's my partner. Tell him thanks, but to stop being an ass. I want to help guard him."

Fornell shook his head. "I'll tell him, McGee, but don't expect him to change his mind. He was pretty adamant." The FBI agent remembered how difficult it had been to persuade Tony to go to the safe house. The guy was stubborn and self-sacrificing, that was for damned sure, and too damned brave for his own good. He had to be worried, not to mention in pain, but most of all he was crippled with guilt, and Fornell was really concerned about the brash young agent.

_ Fornell's Flashback:_

_After Jethro has taken off back to the Navy Yard for a clean-up detail with Leon Vance, he'd wandered out to get some air and a ubiquitous cup of coffee only to receive a summons from the nurses' desk to say that Special Agent DiNozzo had regained consciousness. Expecting him to be disorientated, he found instead that the stubborn agent was surprisingly lucid and attempting to get out of bed and get dressed, despite the proliferation of surgical steel holding his left arm and shoulder together. _

_Fornell scowled at the NCIS agent. "What the Hell are ya doing, DiNuzto?"_

_Tony looked at Fornell angrily. "It's not safe for me to be here, Fornell; I need to leave, NOW. Mossad are going to come after me and I don't want any innocent people getting in the way."_

_Fornell could understand him being mistrustful all things considered, but the docs had been pretty clear that he needed to be here under medical care. "Look, DiNutzo, I know you feel exposed, and not because of the backless gown," he joked. "Would be questioning your mental health if ya weren't a bit antsy, but you need to get back into bed before you fall down. I've got ya back, kid." He noticed a strange expression on the senior field agent's face when he said those words that should have reassured him, but it just seemed to make him even more agitated._

_Snorting, he grimaced. "Excuse me, Fornell, if that doesn't make me feel better. It's kind of what got me into this mess in the first place."_

_Walking the agent back to the bed and assisting him back into it, he distracted him from the action by asking, "How 'bout you tell me what happened, DiNotzo?"_

_And so he had, from the time the FBI agent had left the NCIS bullpen after Tony had expressed his disbelief to Gibbs and Fornell when the death of Abin Tabil had been ruled a suicide and declared closed by Director Vance. Tony had been openly incredulous, claiming it was way too neat. Obviously, his suspicious had been right, and a few hours later he'd been fighting for his life against the Kidon assassin, Michael Rivkin. Fornell listened, mostly in silence, as Tony outlined the events that unfolded after his abortive attempt to arrest Rivkin when he found him at Ziva David's apartment, including Mossad's clumsy attempt to destroy any evidence by faking a gas leak and blowing up her apartment and Leon Vance's impetuous decision to drag Tony to Tel Aviv. As he listened, he asked a few questions and his expression darkened as the account continued. He'd heard much of this already from Ducky, but hearing it straight from the horse's mouth was utterly damning!_

_One pertinent question occurred to him. Did Gibbs make sure Tony was cleared for a long haul trip before he let Vance drag him on a god-uncomfortable 12-hour flight on a C-130 each way? As far as Fornell knew, commercial airlines had a 48-hour exclusion rule about people with broken bones flying. He needed to find out why that was._

_He also needed to find out why when Vance had essentially told Tony he was expendable, Gibbs didn't appear to have protested or why he let Tony be separated off from them when they landed. Anything could have happened to him on the drive to Mossad headquarters and they wouldn't have been in a position to come to his aid, because they wouldn't have a freakin' clue what was going on. If the shoe was on the other foot, Tobias was damned sure that Mossad wouldn't have turned one of their own over to them like that. Mossad wouldn't sacrifice one of their own to brown nose with Leon Freakin' Vance._

_And why didn't Tony's superiors protest about using torture during the interrogation, because let's face it; it's not as if either of them wouldn't have anticipated it. DiNutzo clearly had and had tried and succeeded in diverting him, but he shouldn't have had to fight the battle on his own. Gibbs and Vance should have had his back, and even though he was sure that Gibbs would have been confident that Tony could hold his own, was his old friend even aware of how many injuries his SFA was carrying from the beating that Rivkin gave him? Did he even bother to read the ER report or DiNotzo's report of the fight? Because if he had, he would have known that Tony should have still been in hospital under observation, not being tortured by that bastard for just trying to do his job and protect his partner. He was damned lucky to have survived an out-of-control raging alcoholic trained assassin – a highly dangerous combination, and Eli was damned fortunate that he hadn't gone off on a helpless citizen instead of Tony. _

_But still, he was furious that Tony had an undiagnosed hairline fracture of his clavicle that the ER doc hadn't picked up on viewing the radiological films when DiNutzo had presented. By the time the radiologist reviewed the films the next day and determined that he had fractured his collarbone, they had been unable to contact him because he was riding a C130 on a 12-hour flight to Israel with one dead assassin and one still breathing that wanted his balls on a platter. Fornell could only imagine how much pain he would have experienced when Eli David grabbed him on the collarbones and squeezed as he dug into the muscles with his fingers into the bone and then later on when he'd grabbed him around the throat, given the bruising to his trachea and oesophagus after Rivkin had choked the shit out of him. He was looking forward to asking some very pertinent and pointed questions of Tony's superiors during the course of his investigation. Ducky had thankfully dropped the dime on his agency's failures when he'd made sure that Fornell was called in to head the investigation and insure that Tony received justice instead of being shafted by NCIS._

_But right now, he needed to know what had happened when Ziva had attempted to kill him and make it look like a home invasion gone bad. Not that this was a formal statement. He would organise to take that later, but he needed a sitrep on what had happened._

_End of Fornell's Flashback_

When Fornell arrived back at his office, there was a message that the Director wanted to see him. When he reported to Director Barry Hutchins' office, he found he wasn't alone. Special Agent Lina Reyes was getting a briefing and he beckoned Tobias in and told him to close the door and park his ass. After enquiring if Fornell had collected all the evidence they had requested in the warrant, he nodded, pleased.

"Good, that's a relief. I don't have to tell you that this case is a nightmare waiting to happen. I'm going to tell you that it has Capitol Hill extremely nervous. We need to be absolutely scrupulous in following procedure on this one, Tobias, and while everyone is in agreement that you should head up the case, given your familiarity with all the players and the credence you've built up with NCIS over the years, we have to not only do things by the book, but we have to be seen as doing everything by the book. One hundred per cent transparency, no questions left unasked or unanswered, and everyone made to account for their actions. If they scratched their butts I want it documented and their rationale explained in full. Hell, I expect you to damned well swab their fingers and find out what bacteria is lurking on their grimy mitts. Is that clear, Tobias?"

Fornell could imagine how much shit the case was attracting and he felt sorry for his bosses. This was a no-win situation for everyone. "Yes, Sir, crystal clear. Everything done by the book and in triplicate. Don't worry, I want justice, too. Special Agent DiNutzo may not be FBI, but he is a federal agent and he deserves so much more than he got and well, Special Agent Sacks was one of us. He might have made a damned rookie mistake, but he paid the ultimate price for his bone-headedness and I want justice for both of them. Otherwise, why would any fed ever decide to get out of bed and come into work every day instead of just hand in their badges? As far as I can judge, there is a Hell of a lot of feds over at the Navy Yard wondering who has their back anymore."

Director Hutchins grimaced. "Yeah, well, can't exactly blame them, Tobias. I'd be looking at my options, too, if I was them. And you have my condolences about Ron, for what it's worth. He was a solid, honest agent and I know you two worked together for a long time. That's why we have to do it right and make sure that anyone who contributed to this catastrophe is held to account. And since you have personal ties with Special Agent Gibbs, and in the spirit of transparency, Special Agent Reyes is going to assist with the investigation." He smiled at the female agent. "I understand that you and Special Agent Gibbs are already acquainted, Lina? And that it would be fair to say that you two didn't see eye to eye?"

She snorted derisively. "The man threatened my investigation, Sir. He is arrogant, stubborn and a bastard so, yes, I think it would be fair to say that we didn't exactly hit it off."

Hutchins smirked. "Good, then I want you to take point when you question Special Agent Gibbs and Director Vance and take their statements. And the Secretary of Defence and Attorney General also want to know if SecNav and Director Vance knew that Rivkin killed ICE Agent Sherman. That means that Secretary Davenport will need to be interviewed, too. Work with Reyes, Tobias, so she's up to speed. And how are we placed on the protection detail with Special Agent DiNozzo?" He enquired. "ICE wants in on the detail since if it weren't for Special Agent DiNozzo, Agent Sherman's killer wouldn't have been apprehended. I understand that Julia Foster-Yates has volunteered to plan and oversee the protection operation."

Fornell looked harried. "We have problems, Sir. DiNutzo doesn't want it. I had managed to talk him around, I think. Then Sacks blundered and now he's saying that he doesn't want our help."

Director Hutchins glared at him. "Surely, he appreciates his life is in imminent danger?"

"Yes, Sir, he understands, but he doesn't want to endanger anyone else. He's convinced that Mossad or more specifically, Eli David, won't rest until Officers David and Rivkin are avenged, but he says he's damned if he'll let anyone else die in his place. The man is notoriously self-sacrificing, will take a bullet for his team mates or a stranger, but he's got serious issues of self-worth, Sir. Afraid Director Vance telling him that he needed to take one for the team when he dragged him off to Israel to face Eli David played right into all his insecurities, damn the man! He convinced him that he was expendable, so I guess it's not surprising that he doesn't want to anyone else to die. He and Sacks didn't get along, but he was devastated over his death; he's blaming himself!"

The three Fibbies were all silent as they considered the events leading up to Ron Sacks' tragic death. Ironically, his presence on protection detail in Bethesda hadn't afforded him a lucky break, even though he was given immediate medical treatment. Whoever was after DiNozzo was playing for keeps!

_Flashback:_

_After Tony had finished reporting what had gone down in the shooting in his bedroom at 0330 this morning, he'd collapsed back into the hospital bed, spent physically and emotionally. Fornell was at a loss to know what to say to the wounded man. He cursed the fact that DiNotzo was such a loyal SOB, even when people didn't deserve it, because if he'd had a modicum of self-preservation, he would have jumped ship from the MCRT years ago and accepted his offer to join the FBI. In terms of career advancement, he would have been much better off since he was such a talented agent, but more importantly, his emotional and psychological well-being would have been better served in not being NCIS's whipping boy. That whole disgrace with La Grenouille should have never happened, and he couldn't believe that another Director was using him and hanging him out to dry. It was time for Tony to stop being treated as everybody's scapegoat and lackey, god-damn it!_

_Broaching the subject of his protection detail, Fornell wanted Tony to know that the FBI had his back and that the fallout for this mess was reverberating all the way up to the Hill. The Justice Department, State Department and Department of Defence were all adamant that protecting Anthony DiNozzo from any reprisals from the Israelis or Mossad was paramount, as any successful assassination attempts could only further damage the relationship, perhaps irrevocably in a way that terrorists hadn't been able to. Yet, when he'd explained that they were setting up a safe house for him even as they spoke, he became extremely agitated and distressed, and the medicos insisted on sedating him for his own well-being._

_The next time that DiNotzo had swum his way back to consciousness, Fornell was informed, and he'd rushed back to try and reason with the stubborn NCIS agent who was attempting to sign himself out of hospital against medical advice. And despite the fact that he'd talked to him til he was blue in the face, pleading for him to reconsider and let them protect him, he'd been determined. Finally, he'd pulled out the big guns that he'd held back until now._

"_DiNotzo, I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave. I'm under orders from your boss and mine to place you under protective custody. SecDef is ordering you to surrender yourself into protective custody, Tony." He gave the younger man a sympathetic look, wishing he hadn't had to wield the big stick. He always preferred the carrot approach himself._

_Tony just shook his head, stubbornly. "Don't care, Fornell! Not my boss anymore." He waved a white envelope at the FBI agent. "Do me a favour and give that to Vance for me when you see him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some release forms to sign."_

_Fornell took the paperwork out of his hand. "What the Hell is this, Tony? Damn it, what did you do?"_

_Tony shrugged, "That, my friend, is my resignation. Gibbs can't tell me what to do, Vance can't order me to Israel and serve me up on platter to his good buddy, Eli David, SecNav can't offer me up as a sacrificial lamb to the slaughter to keep Mossad happy, and SecDef can't force me into protective custody and put anyone that tries to protect me in danger. Don't you see, Fornell? Mossad is like the Pinkerton Agency – they always get their man. And if you or anyone else gets in the way, then they'll just kill you, too. That's why I have to leave, to keep everyone safe. I can't have any more deaths on my conscience." _

_Fornell felt fury at Eli and Ziva David, and their hidden agendas and mind games. He also wondered at his old friend and how he could have screwed up so bad that his famous gut had steered him into trusting Ziva David so easily. How had he been fooled into forgetting all her deceit and lies, and where the Hell was he now, and why wasn't he here trying to mend the damage he'd caused by worrying about Ziva and forgetting the man that had his six for eight years and would take a bullet for him. And as for Leon Vance, Fornell didn't trust the bastard as far as he could throw him. His relationship with Eli David was getting in the way of him doing his damned job and looking out for his agents. If he was such a damned fan of Mossad and Eli Machiavelli David, perhaps he should think of immigrating to Israel. It was cold comfort that Ziva deciding to kill Tony had probably queered his political aspirations. Rumours had abounded that the director coveted the SecNav chair as a stepping stone all the way to the Oval Office, but he wouldn't even be eligible for a dinner invitation after this fiasco, and Tobias couldn't be happier._

_And he really appreciated how desperate Tony was to not get anyone else hurt if… when Eli David came after him, because the man was incapable of not seeking revenge, even if Tony was the wronged party here. Still, Tobias and the other FBI agents were all willing stop a bullet for him if that's what it took, just like he would do for them if the shoe was on the other foot. Apart from the right and the wrong of it all, his big boss, the Secretary of the Justice Department, had directed that Tony was to be kept safe whatever it took. He hoped to convince Tony to co-operate without having to pull out the big guns and detain him in protective custody as a witness. _

_Of course, his dick of a 2IC wasn't exactly helping matters, either. Every time he entered DiNotzo's hospital room, he came in with his hands over his head saying, "It's a friendly, don't shoot!"_

_And although Tony was apathetic, Tobias could see the pain in his eyes when Sacks made the hurtful barb. He'd told Ron to knock it off, but he kept it up, seeing that he'd gotten to Tony, who didn't even try and come back at him verbally. Finally, when he'd come in to report that Director Hutchins wanted to talk to Fornell, he'd left him to watch the injured man with orders to keep his mouth zipped. When he'd returned to find Sacks had disobeyed his edict to zip it, taunting the beleaguered agent, he'd been furious. Ordering him out of the room, he'd ripped into him. Damn the man for not being a professional. Such a cold bastard to take advantage of Tony who was injured and broken, and he wondered if Ron had even a tenth of the fortitude of DiNotzo had proved to have over the years._

_Getting up in Sacks' face, he yelled at him, "You are to grow up and treat him with compassion and respect or you'd better act mute, because if I hear one more insult out of your mouth, I'll make sure you don't ever get a job in law enforcement ever again. Do I make myself clear, Sacks?"_

_After that, he noticed that Ron had studiously avoided entering DiNotzo's room, and as long as he stopped unauthorised visitors entering the room, Fornell didn't care. He knew that Tony didn't get along with his partner, so keeping them apart was wise. He ordered his probie to stay inside the room with Tony while he returned to the office. It seemed that Eli David was throwing his weight around already, and a strategy meeting had been called to deal with it. Telling Bridie Reilly to stay with Tony and talk to him and make sure that Ron didn't harass him, he reluctantly left his team to guard DiNotzo. He might not have Gibbs' infallible gut (although it hadn't been exactly firing when it came to Ziva David), Fornell still had good instincts, and he had a bad feeling about leaving Sacks and DiNotzo together._

_Deciding on his way out that he would deliver an additional threat, he told Ron that if he upset Tony he'd make him wish he was dead, before proceeding to head down to the office, hoping it wouldn't take long. As far as he was concerned, they should tell Eli David to go and get screwed, although he knew they never would._

_~ An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~_

_Ron Sacks stood outside the hospital room of Anthony DiNozzo, feeling aggrieved at Fornell, himself and the NCIS agent. Why everyone was acting like the prima donna agent was a good guy was a mystery to him. He was still convinced that he killed Rene Benoit last year and got away with murder, so he saw no reason to spare the egotistical ex-cop's feelings. He didn't understand why Fornell was being so solicitous of DiNozzo, who had now killed two Mossad agents in the last week, and that seemed to be one Hell of a coincidence to him._

_Still, as annoying as the sophomoric DiNozzo was, he wasn't about to lose his job over him, so while it was damned fun to bait him, especially since he was so beaten that he wouldn't fight back, he decided to stay away from him. Seeing a candy striper approaching DiNozzo's door with a fruit basket in her arms, he held up his hand, stopping her from entering._

"_Sorry, Miss, but you can't go in there. Only authorised personnel are permitted to enter this patient's room and you're not on the list."_

_The kid looked curious. "Um, okay, well then, can I leave this basket of fruit with you to give to Agent DiNozzo?" _

_Ron looked at the card and saw that the Human Resources Department from NCIS had sent it to him, and he couldn't help feeling a mixture of jealousy and disgust that they were all pandering to Tony. He seriously doubted that the FBI HR would send him a fruit basket, and when he looked at it he saw it wasn't just your ho-hum average fruit basket. No Diva-DiNozzo warranted a fancy schmancy deluxe fruit basket full of fresh figs, tangerines and grapes as well as the usual apples and bananas. _

_Swallowing down his personal feelings, he nodded. "Yeah, hand it over and I'll make sure he gets it," He promised her. _

_Holding the basket as he watched the young volunteer walk away, he considered taking the fruit basket into the room, but decided to wait until Fornell came back and get him to deliver the damned basket. That way he wouldn't be tempted to snark at the pretty-boy agent. Putting it down on the floor outside the door, he felt pissed to be on protection detail. Frankly, this was probie work, not a job for someone with his level of seniority. _

_Glaring at the damned fruit basket, the figs were just asking to be eaten and he couldn't resist nicking one since he was feeling peckish. Actually, he didn't really want to resist since it amused him to be getting one up on the spoilt idiot. As he grabbed a juicy sweet fig and sunk his teeth into the flesh, he smirked knowing how pissed off DiNozzo would be if he knew, but there were at least five figs, and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt the FBI agent. Someday he'd rub it in his face, but for now he'd relish getting one up on the irritating idiot, even if he didn't know. With the mood that Fornell was in, keeping his head down seemed extremely prudent._

_The trouble was that after scarfing down the succulent piece of fruit, he couldn't stop at one. There were four fresh figs left and frankly they were still very much a delicacy in the States, even if they did grown them here, too, and they were just the most deliciously addictive fruit. Sacks was embarrassed, but his mouth was watering and he had to agree with who ever had called them fruit of the Gods. Another two figs disappeared in short order and he was about to start on another one when he noticed the nurse at the desk eyeing him disapprovingly, and he decided to remove the damned temptation. Knocking on the door he ordered Bridie Reilly to come and collect the basket since he had no intention of going into the room. Rubbing his eyes, feeling a headache coming on, Sacks glanced at his watch, hoping that he'd make it to the end of shift. Feeling suddenly queasy also, he figured that the nosy nurse had probably done him a favour preventing him from eating anymore of the fruit, since it seemed like he had a migraine coming on and if so, he was going to soon be puking his guts up._

_~ An Eye for and Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~_

_When Tony's nurse came in to do his postoperative vital signs, she glanced disapprovingly at the fruit basket. "Glad to see your partner left some of those figs for Special Agent DiNozzo. He should be ashamed of himself," she opined. "Would you like a fig, Tony? I must say it was nice of NCIS to send you such an exotic basket of fruit."_

_Tony, who had been apathetic and withdrawn, suddenly perked up. "Bridie, who sent the fruit basket?"_

_The young fibbie looked surprised, but showed him the card that accompanied the fruit and he frowned. Looking at Janet, his nurse, Tony questioned her. "Are you sure that Special Agent Sacks ate the fruit?"_

_She nodded unconsciously. "Oh yes, Tony, I was sitting at the nurses' desk writing up patient notes. He would probably have eaten the lot, but I gave him the evil eye and he knocked on the door and had you come out and collect it." She suddenly noticed that Tony was removing the IV delivering his intravenous antibiotic and then getting shakily out of his bed. "Tony, what do you think you're doing?" _

"_Bridie, Janet, we need to get Ron down to the emergency room ASAP and get his stomach pumped." He urged as he managed to cross to the door and yank it open. Sacks was leaning against the wall, sweating and holding his head. Gesturing at Fornell's second in command, "C'mon ladies, he's been poisoned," he proclaimed._

_Seeing that neither woman was convinced, he turned to Bridie. "Call Fornell and let me talk to him," he ordered in an authoritative tone that brooked no disobedience, and the probie looked shocked and bemused by the rapid fire change in demeanour, but found herself leaping to obey unquestionably. When Fornell answered she handed the phone to the paranoid agent, noting automatically that he was so focused on Sacks and the phone that he was oblivious to the fact that the hospital gown had left him exposed in the back. Checking him out surreptitiously, she noted that there were numerous contusions and lacerations, but in spite of that, she couldn't help admiring the view._

_After convincing Fornell that a fruit basket supposedly sent from NCIS was bogus and the figs in the fruit basket were not typical of your average run of the mill fruit basket, but were a common enough fruit in the Middle East, including Israel, and that Slacks had gobbled down three of the five figs, he agreed with Tony's assessment and ordered his 2IC down to the ER for suspected poisoning symptoms. He also ordered Bridie to stay with Tony and then explained to Tony's nurse that they suspected that the fruit had been poisoned and that Sacks needed to have his stomach pumped ASAP._

_Janet had two orderlies manhandle the FBI agent into a wheelchair and raced the worried-looking agent down to ER. Even in the face of overwhelming signs that he had made a rookie error in becoming Tony's unintended food tester, he was still acting like a prize jerk, yelling out to Tony, "Just can't stand that someone else ate some of your fruit, can ya? Thought you'd get back at me by hoaxing a poisoning so they'd pump my stomach, ya bastard!" When Tony didn't react, he turned to the orderlies instead. "What else would you expect from a killer, huh? Even his own partner wanted him dead!" _

_Tony was beside himself with the certainty that Sacks had been poisoned in his stead. The figs were just too suspicious, and never in all the times that he'd been injured had NCIS ever sent him anything, apart from forms from HR for his doctors to fill out. While many individuals might have sent cards, flowers or even fruit, there was no way in Hell that Director I-have-an-oral-fixation-Vance would ever authorise spending a red cent on him. Slacks was a prize idiot, but that didn't mean that he wanted to see his nemesis in a pine box either. He just hoped they had got to him in time and all he ended up with was a bad case of puking his guts up or the galloping trots. That would have a certain poetic justice to it, but if it was Mossad's intent to poison him, he doubted it would be something so innocuous. _

_Meanwhile as they waited, Fornell's probie begged him to rest as he paced the room like a wounded tiger. He was too distressed to hide his discomfort, but he couldn't stay still either. Fornell had warned him not to leave the room, reminding him that if he did, he might be putting someone else at risk. As much as he wanted to turn tail and run, Tobias, damn him, knew the only card he could play to make him co-operate was to remind him he was putting other people in danger to protect his ass. And seeing how stressed Bridie Reilly was, he took pity on the kid and didn't attempt any Houdini moves, knowing she'd end up in some field office in Death Valley or Anchorage, Alaska, if he did a runner on her watch. Mind you, if things got nasty, he would have no compunction about locking her in the bathroom and taking her gun. He wasn't going to have her death on his conscience, too. She was just a kid and he wasn't worth it!_

_Fornell had called up extra agents to guard the door, but ordered them to stay outside, so when there was a knock on the door, Tony stopped mid-stride and they both exchanged a relieved but apprehensive look as Fornell called out his intention to come in and ordered them to unlock the door. Just one look on his face was enough for Tony; the defeated slump to his shoulders, the barely restrained anger. He knew then that he had Sacks' death on his conscience now, too, and wished for the umpteenth time that Ziva had killed him. He knew that he was going to have to ditch Tobias, but it wasn't going to be easy._


	6. Chapter 6

Beta: This story has benefited greatly by the awesome beta-skills and input of Arress and I want to extend huge thanks to her for all her assistance. And you all know the drill... any boo-boos are my bad :)

A/N Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted or faved this story. I appreciate your support and hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Just to clarify, in this story Jimmy takes on the role of narrator and is written in 1st person while everyone else is written in 3rd person pov.

People noticed that Gibbs was absent from the last chapter and wanted to know what he was doing. The time line as you will have probably gathered by now, skips around quite a lot but perhaps some of your questions might be resolved with this chapter. On the other hand, it might leave you with knew ones. :) Oh and FYI Special Agent Lina Reyes is the Fibbie that locked horns with Gibbs in Terminal Leave. Their relationship was not cordial LOL.

An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind

Chapter 6

Jimmy Palmer:

Calling time of death on the smoke inhalation victim at 10:53, I stepped out of the ER to head down to the doctor's lounge for a much needed cup of coffee. The 16 year-old victim had been rescued from a house fire and they'd managed to get her and the rest of the family out in good time, but Gabrielle was a chronic asthmatic and the smoke damage had caused her impaired lungs to go into respiratory distress and even with timely and aggressive steroid and oxygen therapy, I'd still lost her and that burned so bad, especially when it was a 16-year-old girl. Thinking about her impaired lungs also reminded me of Tony, whose lungs had been badly scarred by the plague, and I hoped that he never got caught in a fire…or a chemical accident… or bad smog. Hell, with no word from him now in nine weeks, everything seemed to remind me of my friend.

Stella, one of the ER nurses, brought in a sausage and extra cheese pizza one night that naturally prompted thoughts of DiNozzo. One day an MVA victim was brought in to the ER by the EMTs bemoaning the fact they had cut his Ermenegildo Zenga pants to access his compound fractured tibia and I couldn't help recalling all the times Tony had whined about the demise of his designer suits, shoes and shirts at crime scenes or taking down dirtbags. And although he bitched about his clothes being ruined, my friend flatly refused to dress more practically, like Gibbs and McGee. Even when he was dressed casually, his shirts, jackets and jeans were all designer labels. I wonder how he has managed these last months since he went on the run. He'd walked away leaving his extensive wardrobe, not to mention his DVD collection and his beloved baby grand piano behind. Of course, we put his stuff in storage and Dr. Mallard re-homed his beloved piano and I kept it tuned, ready for the day when we found him and brought him home.

Still, nine weeks since the last time I'd received an enigmatic message that Tony was okay now had us all climbing the walls with worry and Gibbs had demanded that I turn over the more than 40 blank postcards that someone, and I'm presuming that it was Tony, had sent me. Gibbs was holding onto the outside hope that Dr. Mallard could perform what he liked to describe as a forensic autopsy on the collection to see if he could find some sort of pattern or give us a fresh lead on where to begin looking for Tony. I mean, there had been the odd unconfirmed sighting since every federal and state law enforcement agency in the country was trying to locate him and failing woefully. As worried as I was about Tony, I couldn't help also feeling proud that my friend, the one that everyone from Caitlyn Todd, Tim McGee, Leon Vance and Ziva David had underestimating and mocked on a daily basis had vanished from under everyone's noses. He'd evaded the FBI's finest who were supposed to be protecting him and was leading Mossad on a merry dance…well up until nine weeks ago, that was. Now unfortunately, it was anyone's guess if Tony was still alive.

Hence Gibbs' edict that Ducky needed to pull a rabbit out of his hat like he had so many times before when the MCRT had been stuck on a case. And you know, as much as I hope he can perform a miracle, somehow I don't think any of them understand just how much they don't get how Tony's brain works, but I guess that's hardly surprising. Still, there has to be someone out there that knows something about Tony DiNozzo. As much as he is an incredibly private person, he is friendly with many people, although he would probably count only a handful of individuals as friends, but he has to be getting help from someone. It's hard to believe he could have just vanished so effectively without a lot of forward planning or the fact that he had a lot of help. And I hope for Tony's sake that he has someone.

We're all meeting for dinner tonight to at one of DC Italian restaurants that was Tony's favourite before he left us. Gibbs is back in DC for a flying visit, hoping that Ducky can find a clue. Gibbs has been searching for him since he disappeared, chasing after every false lead and trying to find the assassin who tried to kill Tony while he was in hospital and ended up killing FBI Agent Ron Sacks instead. The FBI managed to find him on CT footage arriving at Dulles Airport from Tel Aviv literally hours before the poisoning attempt on Tony took place. Photo recognition had identified him as Michael Rivkin's brother, Samuel, and when the State Department had complained to Mossad, having traced Rivkin's purchase of the Exotic Deluxe fruit basket from a DC business, Capitol Gourmet Foods, Director Eli David professed shock and horror that one of Mossad's former Officers had gone rogue and decided to avenge his brother's death.

He also claimed to be unable to contact the assassin and explained that Samuel had washed out of Kidon training because he had been deemed not psychologically stable enough for the rigorous lifestyle. Since I had serious doubts about the psychological health of Ziva's father, or Ziva if it came to that, the idea that there were even less sound Mossad operatives running around and that this one was targeting Tony was truly frightening. Of course, none of us or the FBI seriously believed that Eli David wasn't pulling Samuel Rivkin's strings, but no one had ever been able to prove it. And although everyone was beginning to think that perhaps Rivkin and his puppet master had succeeded in their goal of getting retribution, we tried to take solace in the fact that Tony's body hadn't surfaced, nor had there been any signs of Rivkin trying to leave the country. Gibbs was stubbornly swearing that he'd know if Tony had died, but the rest of us were losing faith in Gibbs and his gut feelings. After all, it hadn't managed to lead him to Tony, even though he'd been looking for almost three years without a confirmed sign of him. It was like Tony had simply ceased to exist.

And therein lay the tragedy and pain that Ziva and her father had brought down on the whole team. Well, strictly speaking we weren't actually a team anymore. The MCRT had finally fallen apart when Tony felt like he had no choice but to sacrifice himself for his friends and had slipped away, never to be heard from again. Tim was working for the CIA now as an intelligence analyst and I was working at the ER at George Washington, going to specialise in Emergency Medicine or maybe paediatrics. Abby and Ducky were the only ones that remained at NCIS, and I strongly suspect that the only reason they remained was so that Tony could find them easily if he needed them. If Tony was truly dead, I doubt either of them would bother to hang around anymore. Abby has always had plenty of offers from the private sector and Ducky would more than likely retire. And Gibbs… well, I can't imagine what he would do.

He left his old life behind at NCIS to fruitlessly chase after Tony, and the fact that he is no closer to finding him after 30 plus months, has to be soul destroying. Of course, while he is obviously remorseful and seeking to atone for his mistakes, it isn't lost on any of us that if he'd only had Tony's back like he'd told him on many occasions, this whole tragic mess could have been averted. But recriminations are what got us into this catastrophe in the first place, so I try not to focus too much on what might have happened if Tony had gotten the support he needed and deserved after Rivkin's death. Better to hope that the postcards will reveal some sort of pattern that will lead us to him instead.

When I arrive at the restaurant, I'm pleased to see that Tobias Fornell has joined us, too, no doubt eager to hear what Dr. Mallard has been able to discern. I have my suspicions that Toby knows more than he's letting on. Oh, I have no question that he is as worried as all of us about Tony and doesn't know where my friend is, but I think that he is holding something back. Perhaps he knows what made Tony push us all aside so suddenly. There's something that I can't define when he looks at Gibbs, something in his eyes when they do that silent communication thingy that Gibbs and Tony used to do in the early days, too. But for tonight, he has a folder full of sightings, tips and unconfirmed leads that he hands to Gibbs apologetically, clearly not really regarding any of them as promising. Yet as all of us know as Gibbs accepts the Intel with a grateful look, Gibbs will be off by morning, chasing every last one of them down hoping against hope that somehow one will be the one to lead him to his former senior field agent.

Meanwhile as Dr. Mallard pulls out his own file, the waitress sweeps in to take our orders and efficiently returns with our drinks as my elderly mentor clears his throat and begins. "Well, as you all know, Jethro has requested that I conduct a psychological autopsy on the only available evidence that we have to work with. I've studied these blank postcards that began turning up in young Mr. Palmer's mailbox a short time after Anthony disappeared from the protective custody of the FBI. I have to concur with my protégé and agree that I think that the cards are his own way of letting his friends know that he is alive or that he was sometime prior to James receiving this last one from the Illinios World Free Fall Competition which was held in August, although it arrived in February: nine weeks ago to be precise. So, either we might infer that he was in Illinios last August or perhaps he plans to be there next August or it is a total misdirection, but I don't believe this to be the case. If he was trying to throw out disinformation, he would be much more blatant about these postcards, I think. The fact he is being so deliberately cautious and obtuse speaks to me that any information that we might glean is probably truthful."

The waitress reappeared with several plates of antipasto for everyone to nibble on while we waited for our food to arrive and people began to help themselves as they listened to the results of Ducky's findings. Looking at my mentor, it struck me exactly how much he has aged since I left NCIS. Donald Mallard had always been a surprisingly youthful man for his age, but he'd begun to look every single one of his years. And studying Gibbs, I noticed he'd also become haggard and looked much older than he used to. That insouciant air of absolute cockiness is missing, he seems to have shrunk somehow, and the piecing quality in his eyes is missing. It's almost as if he's no longer Superman, he's just Clark Kent, and I think bitterly that I'm starting to overcompensate by channelling Tony. Pity I don't have his eidetic memory… it would come in handy for my finals for sure.

Ducky reorganised the postcards as he considered his conclusions, obviously trying to make his findings coherent. "Well, Jethro was hoping that I would be able to find some patterns in the cards he sent that might give us a fresh lead on where to find him. But I have to say, it is going to be most difficult, dear friends. The cards are an example of our Anthony at his distracting, deflecting, misdirecting, unpredictable best. What is obvious is our friend's very unique sense of humour which comes shining through. Take a small sample of these cards; this one for example is from New York City's Idiotarod a play I believe on the world famous Iditarod Race in Alaska, but this is a five mile race through New York City in winter where sabotage is encouraged, elaborate costumes are required, and physical stamina is well down the list. Or the Rattlesnake Roundup held in Sweetwater, Texas, where for three days snake hunters bring in their catches to claim a bounty of $5 per pound of snakes that they've caught. Or this one, which is right up our boy's alley, that is held in Crystal Springs, Michigan in August celebrating the largest fungus or mushroom if you will, in the world. The so-called Humungous Fungus is estimated to be 1,500 years old. A highlight of this particular festival seems to be the making and eating of the HUMONGOUS PIZZA. The fungus topped pizza is 10 feet by 10 feet!"

All of us smiled at the thought of Tony at that particular festival, He would be in his element for sure. Meanwhile, Dr. Mallard took a breath to begin again, reeling off a list of Festivals, and locations. "Then there's the Cincinnati Oktoberfest Sausage Dog races, Interstate Mullet Toss in Pensacola, Florida in April, Swiss Singing and Yodelling Festival in Salt Lake City in June, Celebrity Impersonators Convention in Las Vegas in March, Bald is Beautiful Convention in Morehead City, North Carolina during September, Zombiefest in Monroeville, Pennsylvania in October, Atlanta Jazz Fest in May, Banana Split Festival in Wilmington in June, Coon Dog Graveyard Celebration in Tuscumbia, Alabama in September and World Championships Barrel Relays in September at Bardstown, Kentucky." He took a breath and I jumped in.

"Don't forget the Emma Crawford Coffin Festival in Manitou Springs, Colorado in October or possibly my favourite one of all - the National Hobo Convention in Britt Iowa during August," I contributed helpfully, as Dr. Mallard looked at me in fond exasperation.

"Quite, Mr. Palmer… although I suppose I should start calling you Dr. Palmer. But my point is that these postcards reflect the mercurial nature of our young friend along with his quixotic qualities as he searched out the quirky and the obscure gatherings. But if they are an accurate representation of his itinerary, then he is highly mobile, never staying very long in one spot. With the valuable assistance of Dr. Palmer, I have plotted a timeline based upon the order he received these postcards and I have not been able to detect any discernible pattern to be observed in his movements. That means that it is impossible to predict where he might go next."

Everyone looked shattered that another dead end had been reached and Ducky made a cryptic comment to Fornell about the enigma that was Anthony's thought processes, but that if it was any comfort, Samuel Rivkin was unlikely to have any greater luck trying to predict his next move, probably less so since he would probably cling to the belief that there was a way to predict his behaviour. Gibbs looked frustrated and McGee snorted scornfully and made a typical passive aggressive remark about Tony's intellectual potential. Part of me wanted to deliver a good old Gibbs slap to his head for being a pratt while another part of me rationalised that the so-called computer genius was not dealing well with the fact that after working with Tony for years, his computer prowess still couldn't help him to predict where Tony was or what he was doing. That had to suck!

Still, for me the question was_ how the hell was Tony surviving without money?_ Common sense dictates that he would need to get money from somewhere, but the truth was that no one could figure out how he was able to travel around the country. I was certain that there was a method to Tony's madness; that he had some grand plan, but we were missing something important. I wish that I'd paid more attention to Tony's constant chatter because I'm certain that the answer lies in something that he's said or done. Tony's most dangerous qualities have always been his ability to make people let down their guard around him and underestimate him because of his verbal diarrhoea. Where he says so much, but he in reality gives away so little of consequence, and even then you have to want to sort the wheat from the chaff. Dirtbags and his colleagues alike seem to be mesmerised by his goofy act and never realise how much of his keen intellect is gliding underneath the surface, like a lethal iceberg waiting to strike.

And finally, when I found out exactly what we had been missing, I was so angry with myself because the knowledge that would have made it possible to predict his movements was really within all of our grasps, but over time we'd let him mesmerize us into a state of complacency. Yes, even me, who had reason to know better than most exactly how smart my friend really was. Woulda, shoulda, coulda…If only…

~ An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~

Flashback:

Eli David looked over the reports from the investigation into his daughter's death. The FBI was being frustratingly obstructionist and refusing to allow Mossad to have a place, even as an observer, on the investigative team. All they would agree to under a great deal of duress from the State Department was that he could have access to all the case reports. He cursed the fact that NCIS wasn't investigating the shooting, since they would have been far easier to manipulate.

Despite his grief and anger over losing his last surviving offspring, he couldn't help a sardonic smirk. These American's were so easy to play so that they felt beholden to him and his. First time he'd discovered this immutable truth had been with a greener than green Leon Vance and the fact that he'd saved his life when the woefully untrained rookie had been sent on a suicide mission to Amsterdam where he was supposed to perish. Saving his worthless, sad little life had amused Eli, since he enjoyed creating mayhem and throwing TPTB into chaos, even if they happened not to be his own compatriots. Of course, later on he realised that he'd made a useful ally and he hadn't hesitated to help Vance's career along when the opportunity arose. Eli knew that Leon felt that he owed him, and he was acutely aware of just how valuable such a favour could be, long term.

It was a lesson he took to heart, and in good time he imparted it to Ziva, instructing her to make sure to save Jenny Shepard's life if the opportunity ever arose when they were partnered together post 9/11. Of course, his fiery impatient Zivala, never one to sit idly by and simply wait for an opportunity to present itself, promptly set out to manufacture one. She hired a bumbling would-be assassin to try to kill her and Jenny and swiftly slaughtered the poor schmuck rather spectacularly, earning Shepard's undying gratitude in the process. He had really been overcome with paternal pride at his daughter's resourcefulness, and it certainly helped to have an extremely grateful Jen Shepard when she ended up being appointed as the first female director of NCIS. It definitely didn't hurt for her to be so indebted to Ziva when he hatched the plan to have Ziva join NCIS as a liaison officer for Mossad in DC.

Of course, the piece de resistance was setting Ari up to be shot down like the rabid dog he'd become in order to convince the suspicious and influential Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs that Ziva should join his MCRT. It had been easy enough to plant the idea of getting rid of a member of the top notch investigative team into Ari's head to create a vacancy for his protégé and child. Once Ari had killed off Agent Todd, it was equally simple to manipulate his traitorous whelp to then attempt to kill Gibbs. Actually, it was way too easy to set up the ill-founded attempt by his imbecilic son, simply by ordering Ari not to kill the irascible and arrogant special agent. Eli had gambled that Gibbs shared enough superficial character traits with him to irritate Haswari and make him identify with Gibbs as a surrogate father-figure. That practically guaranteed that Ari would indeed try to kill Gibbs as a symbolic slaying of his father.

Mind you, Eli mused maliciously, Gibbs hadn't exactly done himself any favours either by becoming obsessed with punishing the rogue Mossad officer in retribution for being shot during an undercover mission. He of all people with his own Black Ops background should have understood the rationale behind Ari's action in maintaining his cover when he held the NCIS personnel hostage, but clearly Ari had threatened the Marine gunny's manhood, and that had prompted their pissing contest like a pair of rabid dogs. Well, that and the fact that Gibbs hadn't rested until he managed to shoot Ari in retribution; and that had been a truly fortuitous happenstance in creating a bitter animosity between the duo. So, it had been child's play to orchestrate the attempted assassination of Gibbs so that Ziva could "save" Gibbs' life and make him feel obligated to her, and therefore to Eli and his personal agenda.

The fact that the charismatic NCIS agent also felt paternal feelings for Ziva resulting in him falsifying his report into Ari's death to protect Ziva from her evil father's wrath for killing her brother was also highly amusing to him. But it also served its purpose and allowed Ziva to gain a place of trust in the highly esteemed MCRT leader's life, and that couldn't be quantified. It was priceless!

Frankly, Eli was rather shocked that none of the trio of Leon, Jenny and Gibbs ever seemed to connect the dots that the Director of Mossad was leading them around by the um… nose… using the same tried and true method of earning their loyalty. Fortunately, this same mechanism of feeling gratitude though, had been ineffective on his brilliant young protégé, his Ziva who found her own life being saved by Agent Meatball in a botched and ill-conceived operation sanctioned by Jen Shepard not long after she assumed the directorship. Ziva was, thankfully, far too arrogant and assured of her own infallibility to be grateful to DiNozzo for talking a pair of assassins into letting her go to retrieve a fictional flash drive, even when it had guaranteed her own survival.

Being egotistic and confident in her own abilities and her refusal to consider her own mortality in this situation, she luckily didn't feel any gratitude to DiNozzo, although Eli was pragmatic enough to admit if it had been Gibbs, it might have been a different kettle of sardines. Luckily, his daughter never forgot that her loyalty was to her Abba and Israel; well, until recently that was when she forgot that being Gibbs' surrogate daughter was just a role she'd been assigned and that it was a foolish delusion, which had ultimately cost her life. That and Agent Meatball having the luck of the devil. But his luck was rapidly about to run out.

~ An Eye for an Eye Leaves Everyone Blind ~

Tobias Fornell descended the steps of the basement in Gibbs' home to check on the welfare of his old friend, and if he was safe, to read him the riot act. He disappeared and no one had seen or talked to him in over 24 hours. Not since he'd gone tearing out of MTAC after informing Director Eli David about Ziva's death. The MTAC techies and analysts had been pretty close mouthed about what had prompted him to go running out of NCIS like the Hounds of Hell were on his heels, but he knew it had something to do with Gibbs' dead wife and daughter. And like his NCIS colleagues, Fornell knew that sometimes it was better not to disturb a wounded bear, but let him hole up alone to lick his wounds.

The problem was, though, that Tobias had an investigation to run and he needed Gibbs to start answering some tough questions. He could understand that Gibbs was hurting, but he wasn't the only one. Sheree Sacks was now a widow and wanted answers about why Ron was sitting in a freezer drawer in the morgue. Likewise, he wanted to know why Tony's life had been turned upside down because he'd refused to stop pursuing the truth about Agent Sherman even after the case had been marked as closed. And now Tobias needed to ascertain if Vance had known that the "suicide" of the terrorist was really a hit by Mossad. And just like any other victim of the crimes they investigated, Gibbs was just going to have to suck it up and talk about what he knew and what he had done. Meanwhile, Fornell was the unlucky fool that was going to haul the bear out of his cave.

As he proceeded into the bowels of the basement, Fornell's nostrils wrinkled in distaste as he detected various unsavoury bodily odours, chiefly stale sweat and an equally unpleasantly acrid combination of bile and vomit. Mixed with the usual basement scents of sawdust, coffee and bourbon, it created a decidedly unpleasant aroma, and Tobias decided that mouth breathing might be the wisest option while he was down here. Taking shallow breaths, he crossed the floor to the slumped figure sitting on the paint stained wooden saw horse who stared fixedly at the empty bottle of Jack Daniels. He noted the pile of glass shards against the floor and wall plus the dark stain, which suggested that Gibbs had flung a bottle of his rotgut in frustration.

Into the silence Gibbs barked out, "Go away, Fornell."

He sighed, deciding that he didn't get paid anywhere near enough to deal with this shit. "Not gonna happen, Jethro. I need answers and you need to stop wallowing in your pity party. Your presence is needed and requested by the PTB. Not to mention your team needs you, too. Time to step up and do you job, my friend."

"Don't have a team anymore, Tobias."

"Yeah, you do, Gibbs, but if you don't get your damned fat-head out of your butt, you won't for much longer. You need to go upstairs and get into the shower and clean up while I put on some coffee so you can sober up. You reek and you can't make a statement until we sweat out that booze." He neglected to mention that it would be Special Agent Lina Reyes who would conduct the interview and be taking Jethro's statement. Frankly, there wasn't enough tea in China for him to have to break that sort of news to his friend, since Gibbs had apparently never heard of the dictum, 'don't shoot the messenger'.

Or on second thoughts, Jethro in all likelihood had heard it, but chose not to observe it, since the only rules he seemed compelled to obey were his own cockamamie ones. And even then, while Gibbs demanded that his team follow his rules religiously, he often as not didn't bother observing them himself if it wasn't convenient. No matter, Tobias would let someone else tell him about Lina!

Putting his hand under the inebriated NCIS agent's arm he tried to encourage him to his feet and up the stairs to clean up.

Seemingly to not have heard Fornell, Gibbs turned his bloodshot eyes to the FBI agent. "That bastard doesn't deserve to be a father, Tobias."

Fornell sighed deeply. Yep, he so didn't get paid anywhere near enough to cop this crap. Jethro was damned hard work to have as a friend. It was going to be one Hell of a job to sober the bastard up since he was so mired in his maudlin thinking. Still, DiNozzo and Sacks deserved that he do his best.

~ An Eye for and Eye Leaves Everybody Blind ~

Gibbs slid behind the wheel of his car as he pulled out of his driveway. He was awash with coffee and possibly for the first time ever, the thought of drinking another ounce of his favourite brew was making him feel slightly nauseous. Of course, the fact that he had consumed about a gallon of the stuff in the past couple of hours was probably to blame for that. Fornell had literally poured it down his throat until he couldn't stomach any more, then the FBI agent had forced him under a cold shower fully clothed and held him under the freezing water for almost an hour. When he finally allowed a shivering Gibbs to climb out of the shower and get dried and dressed in fresh clothing, he forced another batch of coffee upon him in a brutally tough love approach to sobering him up.

Gibbs knew that Fornell was probably the only person apart from Ducky who would dare to subject him to such treatment. Indeed, the only other person who had the guts to stand their ground with him was DiNozzo, although he knew that the younger man wouldn't haul his ass into a cold shower, hold his nose and force him to drink coffee that was strong that even Gibbs could barely swallow it. DiNozzo might possibly threaten him with bodily harm if he didn't get his ass into gear and be there for his team, but he wouldn't threaten him like the FBI agent to kick his butt so bad he'd need Ducky's expertise to remove the boot…maybe. Then Tobias had told him that because of the David's, Ron Sacks had been poisoned in a botched attempt to kill DiNozzo. He demanded Gibbs' help to persuade DiNozzo not to take off but to stay in protective custody, since the senior field agent had convinced himself that he was putting everyone in danger.

Now, as Gibbs drove down the street, he knew that Fornell was expecting him to go straight to the FBI safe house where Tony was currently located, but he decided to detour via NCIS. He decided that he should check on Abby and McGee, and talk to Ducky and get his sage insight into what to do and say to DiNozzo. The truth was he hadn't spoken to DiNozzo since he'd shot Ziva, and he didn't know what to say to him. It wasn't that he was angry with him… he wasn't really… but he couldn't help it if he was irritated that he hadn't told him that Ziva had attacked him in Tel Aviv.

_What_… he taunted himself mentally, how would it have changed things? _What would he have done differently? Chosen Ziva instead of Tony when she issued her ultimatum and used emotional blackmail to get what she wanted in getting Tony kicked off the team? _

_Giving himself a mental head slap he berated his stupidity. If only he'd had DiNozzo's six when he killed Rivkin like he should have and protected him from Vance. He'd done it for McGee with Jen when Tim as a probie had killed an unarmed cop by accident, maybe if he'd afforded his SFA the same privilege then none of this would have ever happened. Maybe if he'd been more supportive of Tony to Ziva at the time, his surrogate daughter wouldn't have become so full of hate, vengeance and anger or felt that she was entitled to extract retribution by killing her team mate. _

_Oh, he didn't blame Tony for killing Ziva… damn it, HE DIDN'T. It wasn't as if he would have intended to kill her or anything. He was simply defending himself, and apparently he was physically at a disadvantage, so it was a miracle that he wasn't the one lying in a drawer in Ducky's morgue. Knowing that Ziva would be returning to Israel in literally hours, he knew he couldn't put off seeing her any longer. Telling himself that talking to DiNozzo could wait… especially since he had no idea what to say to him… even if he didn't blame him. Dealing with emotions and making people feel better wasn't exactly his forte, so he either procrastinated in dealing with those types of issues or he barged in like a bull in a china shop, as his grandmother used to say. This time, he decided to put off talking to his partner and decided to say goodbye to Ziva instead._

When he arrived at Autopsy, he shot Ducky his patented Leroy Jethro Gibbs death ray glare, silently expressing his desire for privacy. Sighing with relief when Duck pursed his lips, shook his head and departed, thankfully sans any longwinded anecdotes, he crossed to the freezer drawers and pulled out the one that housed his surrogate daughter. Glancing down at the lifeless body of the woman who had come to hold such an important place in his badly scarred heart, he leant over and kissed her cold cheek. Whispering, "I'm so sorry," his eyes teary, he wondered if he could survive burying a second daughter. Suddenly becoming aware that he wasn't alone anymore, he spun around ready to rip Ducky or Palmer a new one for interrupting, only to discover that Leon Vance and SecNav Davenport were the ones to intrude upon his grief. Glaring briefly at the pair, he willed them to go away.

Not taking the hint, Leon encroached insensitively on his grief determined to talk to his lead agent after being unable to reach him for hours when he wouldn't take his calls.

"We have to talk, Gibbs," He stated without ceremony. "We need to get all our ducks in a row since someone high up seems to be gunning for us over this Rivkin business. They want to paint it as some sort of conspiracy or to suggest that our conduct was negligent in some way and was responsible for DiNozzo killing David. So we have to back each other up when we make our statements. Someone is out to get us."

The SecNav regarded Gibbs, who was staring at the waxy grey corpse of the Mossad liaison officer, seemingly oblivious to their presence, but he had noticed the flicker of anger when Vance had first started speaking. Davenport also noticed the rapid pulsing of the vein above Jethro's right eye that was usually a clear tell of Gibbs' fury, and frankly SecNav was disturbed. The man was a loose cannon after all since he didn't have any political aspirations, and even more dangerously, it was obvious he had little love for the director of Mossad and blamed him for Ziva's death. The relationship between Eli and NCIS had to be protected at all costs and Davenport knew that the only way to control Gibbs' behaviour and ensure that he toed the agency line was to convince him that the welfare of his team was riding on the three of them sticking together.

That and appealing to the loyalty of Gibbs to the Corps and his brothers-in-arms, which ironically was what he'd done that night in Gibbs' basement while he appealed to him to back off on investigating Leon Vance. While he'd been busy going in to bat for Leon, had retrieved that damned stupid file and ordered Jethro to trust the new director, unbeknownst to Davenport, Gibbs had already set things in motion. He'd turned his loyal Saint Bernard loose earlier on to poke into the closed case of the dead terrorist and ICE Agent literally minutes after Vance had declared that the case had been solved.

If only Gibbs had followed his damned rules and had his agent's six and worked as a team instead of sending him off by himself to do the dirty work and spy on Ziva David's activities, they probably wouldn't have such a FUBAR situation. But he didn't, damn him, and then Rivkin stupidly decided to resist arrest. When would the Gunny learn that going off lone wolf or turning his SFA loose on his own was always a recipe for disaster?

Meanwhile, the NCIS director prowled around the dimly lit room that was coolly impersonal with its preponderance of stainless steel and fluorescent lights; frustrated that Gibbs hadn't yet acknowledged them. Vance had worked hard to reach a position where he couldn't be snubbed or disregarded by anyone, and yet Gibbs didn't seem to play by the rules, and unfortunately seemed able to press his buttons without even trying. Huffing impatiently, he recognised that ignoring them was Gibbs' preferred method of playing mind games with them, of which he was a master. But they didn't have time for Gibbs to screw with them.

The FBI and the Justice Department were on his ass, and he could only stall them for so long. They needed to stick to the script that DiNozzo offered of his own volition to go to Tel Aviv to explain his actions. Although he'd been blocked from speaking to DiNozzo, Leon was confident that Gibbs could gain access to the agent and remind him he had to take one for the team… Hell, for the agency, and it was even more important than ever in light of the events of the previous 48 hours. He glanced at his cell phone; his PA sent him a text to say that the FBI was awaiting him in his office, so he had no time to finesse this conversation.

"Special Agent Gibbs," he barked. "We need you to have our backs here and to remind DiNozzo about taking one for the team when the FBI wants to know about our trip to Israel. We need him make it clear in his statement that he volunteered to go to Israel in the spirit of co-operation between our two agencies."

Davenport joined in smoothly. "Leon's right, Gibbs; you know that someone's out to bring him down. That fake file on him that someone sent you… probably the CIA, is proof positive that someone's out to get him so you need to have his back and mine, too. Remember that it goes both ways Gunny… we'll have yours and DiNozzo's so he doesn't have to answer any charges for shooting the daughter of the Director of Mossad. Oh, and it would probably be better not to mention our little chat in your basement… just make sure DiNozzo remembers whose side he's on and we'll be fine."

Gibbs sneered, "That right, Philip? If I hadn't been so busy following your orders to trust Leon's orders because there was an important agenda in play when I should have been objecting loudly to that damned trip to Tel Aviv so he could lick Eli's butt. You and he were so busy scoring political points and Ziva ended up being the filling in the sandwich. So why the Hell should I give a crap about looking out for your butts with the FBI? Ziva David was a fine young agent and Eli David and you are complicit in her death. I frankly don't trust either of you as far as I can throw you, since you're only concerned with saving your own asses, so don't give me any crap about what DiNozzo or I owe you. Not interested!"

"Oh, please, Gibbs let's not get overly dramatic here. It is unfortunate that David is dead, but she was not the paragon of virtue that you believe her to be. She was sending back classified NCIS Intel to Mossad without authorisation and doing it on your watch. She doesn't deserve your loyalty, even in death, but NCIS does." Davenport countered, worried they had a problem here and its name was Gibbs!

"I don't care, Ziva earned my trust a long time again and I'm going to give it to her. You don't know what she gave up for me… no one does," He avowed stolidly.

Vance was starting to panic because this conversation was not going to script and he was going to have to head back to his office before the damned FBI came looking for him and found him having a pow-wow with SecNav and Gibbs. It would look like they were trying to hide something. Pissed off at the recalcitrant team leader who was a constant thorn in his side, he snapped.

"Oh, please, Gibbs. You really think that we don't already know that it was Ziva who shot her brother, Ari, not you? And did you honestly think that Ziva chose you, a perfect stranger, over her own flesh and blood, because she happened to be a righteous defender of good over evil, then you seriously need to have your head examined," Leon snarled at him, viciously pleased to be able to smack Gibbs down with the bald truth after all these years. "Ziva was following Eli's orders to kill Ari when she shot him down in your basement. She was supposed to win your loyalty so you'd let her join your team, and it worked real good, didn't it? You trusted her more than anyone, even DiNozzo."

Grinning smugly at him, he taunted the stricken agent, "It was an inspired plan, you've got give it to Eli." He finished admiringly. His friend might be twisted, but he was damned brilliant!

Gibbs felt like he'd been punched in the gut, his heart ripped apart and crushed. He couldn't… no, he wouldn't believe the lies and filth that Vance was spewing about Ziva. He'd say anything to save his own skin, typical lying, smarmy politician that he was. There was simply no way that his gut could have let him down that badly, not for four years. He would have known if Ziva David had been trying to play him like that. She wasn't the cold-blooded assassin that Vance claimed… she wasn't.

Yet, as he flashed a brief glance across at Davenport to check out his reaction, he was devastated to see the truth in his eyes. Feeling an overwhelming wave of fury engulf him, Gibbs demanded to know why no one ever told him that the whole Ari shooting was nothing more than an elaborate ruse to inveigle their way into NCIS, and Vance smirked, saying that she hadn't been considered a security risk until the Rivkin debacle. Seeing the rampant smugness that clung to Leon Vance's person like a cheap suit, Gibbs swiftly filled in between the lines that the director had also enjoyed being able to laugh at the legendary Leroy Jethro Gibbs behind his back for being played for a fool.

Picking up a tray of Ducky's tools of his trade and flinging them at the wall in lieu of punching out either the Director or SecNav, Jethro stormed out of Autopsy, ignoring the angry and desperate directives to come back, and took to the stairs to effect a clean get-away. He had to get out of there before he exploded. Who else knew about his cuckolding? Obviously Ziva and her bastard of sperm donor, but did Jenny know? What about other Mossad operatives? Officer Hadar? Did Michael Rivkin know? That would explain why he was so damned contemptuous of them and failed to be intimidated by his infamous Gibbs death-ray glare.

Getting into his precious Challenger, he roared out of the Navy Yard, battling to contain his feelings of rage, betrayal and desolation, and yes, his mortification. All he could think about was returning to his basement and getting stinkingly, blind, rotten drunk once more so he wouldn't have to feel anything again. He briefly considered that he'd promised Tobias, that he'd go and talk some sense into DiNozzo, but damn it, he was a big boy. He'd had plenty of knocks in his life and yet he'd managed to bounce back like one of those stupid blow-up punching clowns. He'd be fine and Fornell would understand. He was a father, too, when all was said and done, and he'd understand that Gibbs' heart had been shattered by the woman he had mistakenly believed had looked upon him as her surrogate father.

He'd fix things with Fornell and DiNozzo later when he wasn't feeling so damned raw. Plenty of time to deal with the living later, he rationalized callously. Right now he had a date to mourn the death of a relationship that had been nothing but a sham. And more importantly, to reacquaint himself with a relationship that he should never have forgotten in the first place.

Ziva, damn her and her father, had spat upon and cheapened his relationship with his darling Kelly, manipulating him into caring about the Mossad agent like she was a daughter. Now he needed to reconnect with his girls and remember that what he had with them deserved his loyalty and devotion. Surely no one could be hard- hearted enough to expect him to turn up and engage in a touchy-feely hand holding session with a highly strung, insecure senior field agent, could they? Well, screw them if they did!

DiNozzo would keep, he wasn't going anywhere, despite his hollow threats. Gibbs had broken him of the habit of running off at the drop of a hat six years ago, and he'd continued to hang around like the loyal Saint Bernard that he was. His senior field agent would understand; he always did after all!


End file.
